^fS" 


Elder  Northfield's  Home; 


OR, 


Sacrificed  on  the  Mormon  Altar. 


A  STORY  OF 

THE  BLIGHTING  CURSE  OF  POLYGAMY. 


BY 


A.  JENNIE  BARTLETT. 


NEW  YORK: 

21    PARK    PLACE. 
1882. 


Copyright,  1882,  by 
A.  J,  SWITZER. 


PREFACE, 


Sad  as  the  scenes  depicted  by  the  succeeding  pages  may  seem,  revolting 
though  they  appear  to  a  right-minded  community,  savoring  as  they  do  ot 
barbarism  and  superstition,  and  displaying  tyranny  and  oppression  which 
our  so-called  free  America  should  blush  to  tolerate,  yet  not  one  representa- 
tion of  the  workings  of  Mornionism  and  Polygamy  has  here  been  given 
"which  has  not  its  parallel  in  actual  life  in  Utah  at  the  present  day. 

The  pollution  of  the  marriage  relation,  the  wife  literally  giving  away 
(being  forced  to  do  so)  other  so-called  wives  to  her  husband,  the  invasion  of 
her  home-happiness  by  those  fiendish  attributes — hate  and  jealousy — the 
neglect  and  often  cruelty  woman  must  suffer  from  him  who  should  love, 
cherish  and  honor  her,  by  the  forcing  of  young  and  innocent  girls  into  re- 
pulsive matrimonial  alliances — these  are  not  vagaries  of  fancy,  portrayed  to 
excite  the  emotion  of  sensation-loving  minds,  but  facts,  which  exist  in  defi- 
ance of  our  laws  to  the  contrary  in  our  otherwise  glorious  republic. 

This  horrible  system  is  said  to  have  had  its  origin  with  Joseph  Smith,  the 
great  founder  of  Mormonism,  and  Avas  introduced  by  him  as  a  religious  in- 
stitution, to  screen  his  own  wrong-doing  from  public  censure.  It  was  claimed 
by  him  to  be  the  direct  revelation  from  God,  and  as  founders  of  new  religions 
are  often  believed  in  by  their  followers  as  almost  supernatural  or  infallible, 
so  the  followers  of  this  man  received  his  teachings  with  the  unreasoning 
faith  that  fanaticism  and  religious  excitement  will  sometimes  produce  in 
even  the  most  well-balanced  minds.  So  polygamy  was  established  as  an 
important  doctrine  in  the  religion  of  the  LatteV-Day  Saints.  The  women  are 
taught  that  only  by  patiently  bearing  their  cross,  submitting  to  and  obeying 
-their  husbands,  and  advancing  his  interests,  can  they  hope  for  happiness  in 
the  future  life.  If  the  question  arises,  why  are  they  so  simple-minded  as  to 
receive,  and  submit  to  such  teachings?  the  answer  is  apparent.  They  know 
no  other  life;  they  receive  no  other  instruction  than  that  which  instills  the 
Mormon  religion  into  their  minds.  All  the  influences  by  which  they  are 
surrounded  from  very  infancy,  tend  toward  deceiving  them  into  a  belief  in 
their  religion.  They  have  been  kept  ignorant  by  the  authorities  lest  a  culti- 
vation of  the  intellect  stir  up  rebellion  against  their  oppressors.  For  a  suc- 
cessful reign  of  tyranny  and  oppression,  ignorance  in  the  subjects  is  a  neces- 
sity. All  despotic  rulers  know  this,  and  as  the  recent  slave-holder  of  the 
South  allowed  the  poor  African  no  opportunity  to  obtain  an  education,  lest 
he  rise  up  and  defy  him,  as  the  Roman  priesthood  discourage  any  education 
in  the  church  save  a  strictly  Romish  one,  lest  it  loose  its  power  over  its  vast 
dominion,  so  the  Mormons  look  upon  education  in  their  subjects  as  destruc- 
tive to  their  institutions. 

Tliere  have  always  been  men  and  women  in  the  Mormon  Church  who  did 
not  believe  in  the  religion  they  professed  to  accept.  But  though  broken- 
hearted, though  stung  to  madness,  though  plunged  into  the  deepest  despair 

938602  ^'^ 


4  PREFACE. 

by  tlieir  wrongs,  yet  the  possibility  of  liberatincr  themselves  from  their  bond- 
age scarcH'ly  occurred  to  the  women,  aixl  indeed  has  not  existed  many  years. 
If  a  de^iperate  soul  sought  relief  from  her  troubles  in  flight  from  the  Terri- 
tory, she  was  jmrsued,  not  by  the  blood-hound  that  scented  the  African 
refiigee,  but  by  the  l)loo(l-hf)un(l  in  human  form,  wiio  sought  to  capture  her 
and  return  her  to  the  miseries  of  Mormon  life.  And  this  was  done  in  the 
name  of  religi(jn! 

The  hearts  of  these  women  cry  out  in  anguish  for  deliverance.  Their 
prayers  to  a  merciful  Father  ascend  day  and  nighr,  that  his  hand  will  relieve 
them  from  the  sorrows  of  their  life.  They  look  towards  the  government 
with  hope  for  themselves,  as  each  law  is  passed  for  the  suppressing  of  polyg- 
amy. But  their  hope  is  turned  to  despair  as  they  Avitness  the  inabilityof 
Congress  to  enforce  the  laws  it  passes,  and  the  successful  defiance  of  the  law- 
breaking  citizens  of  Utah.  But  they  can  only  suffer  in  silence.  They  dare 
not  raise  their  voice  to  plead  their  own  cause.  More  helpless  are  they  than 
the  negro  slave,  for  they  are  of  the  weaker  sex,  and  must  submit  to  the 
j)Ower  of  physical  might.  Will  our  nation  suffer  this  wrong  to  go  oii,  to 
perpetuate  itself,  to  increase  and  spread  as  it  is  rapidly  doing  now?  "Will  it 
at  a  fearful  sacrifice  of  money  and  life,  by  one  of  the  mightiest,  grandest 
movements  a  nation  ever  made,  abolish  one  terrible  curse  to  our  country, 
and  ignore  the  existence  of  its  equal,  when  a  comparatively  insignificant 
strutrgle  would  suffice  to  exterminate  it?  Is  the  freedom  of  "the  black  man 
and  his  redemption  from  ignorance  to  be  considered  more  imperative,  more 
desirable  than  the  freedom  of  women  from  the  most  degrading  life  a  woman 
can  lead?  Were  the  cries  of  the  slave  under  the  lash  more  jiitiable  than  are 
the  heart  miseries  of  these  women?  Were  the  separation  of  husband  and 
wife  by  the  stern  decrees  of  the  auction  block  more  to  be  deplored  and  abol- 
ished than  the  constant  misery  of  u  polygamic  life?  Is  not  this  slavery  of 
the  West  a  much  more  despicable  one  than  that  of  the  South,  in  that  it' is  a 
slavery  of  defenceless  women,  a  doubly  debasing  institution,  and  in  that  the 
Borrows  of  the  victims  are  brought  upon  them  by  their  own  husbands?  Again, 
the  slavery  of  the  South,  though  justified  by  its" participants,  was  not  adopted 
a.s  a  religious  ordinance.  In  Mormondom  liearts  are  wantonly  crushed, 
homes  polluted,  the  basest  of  wickedness  perpetrated,  and  all  in  the  name 
of  religion.  What  blasphemy  against  a  just  and  i)ure  God!  Where  in  all 
the  enlightened  countries  of  the  globe,  can  be  found  so  foul  a  stain,  as  that 
whi<;h  blackens  the  otherwise  fair  fame  of  our  nation? 

Will  our  government  weakly  allow  its  laws  to  be  trampled  under  foot  and 
ignore  the  defiance  of  a  body  of  men,  fast  increasing  in  numbers  and  influ- 
ence? Let  it  attack  this  great  evil  with  the  energy  which  characterized  the 
putting  down  of  the  rebellion  and  the  blotting  out  of  slavery,  or  even  with 
the  same  relentless  persistence  with  which  the  poor  Indian"is  driven  from 
T.lace  to  ])lace  on  his  native  soil,  and  polygamy  will  be  a  thing  of  the  past, 
fhen  will  the  United  States  stand  pro'udly' forth,  the  grandest,  noblest 
nation  on  the  globe. 


Elder  Northfield's  Home; 

OR, 

SACRIFICED  ON  THE  MORMON  ALTAR. 


CHAPTER  I. 

^  ^  TTTELL,  Marion,  here  we  are ! — trunks  packed ;  fare- 
'  »  well  calls  made;  passages  engaged;  tears  all 
shed ; — wish  I  were  sure  of  the  last.  0  how  hard  I  find 
it  to  leave  my  dear  home  and  country,  much  as  I  always 
wished  to  go  to  America,  and  to  have  a  home  with  aunt 
Wells !  But  you,  Marion,  seem  so  very  happy.  I  wonder 
if  I  should  be  in  such  a  delightful  frame  of  mind  if  I 
were  on  the  eve  of  marrying  a  Mormon  elder,  and  emigrating 
with  him  to  Zion,  as  you  call  it,  where  the  people  are  all  of 
one  faith,  the  women  dress  so  simply,  and  think  and  care 
for  nothing  but  their  religion.  I  am  afraid  I  should  make  a 
poor  saint,  Marion.  I  couldn't  give  away  all  my  fine  dresses, 
jewelry  and  ornaments,  as  you  have  done ;  I  should  keep 
them,  and  at  least  dress  in  them  once  in  a  while,  if  but  to 
admire  myself  and  not  forget  how  I  used  to  look  when  I 
belonged  to  the  world,  and  I  should  not  want  to  attend 
meetings  so  constantly.  This  emigrating  to  Zion  seems  to 
me  altogether  uncalled  for.     The  new  people  seem  to  be  a 

(5) 


6  ELDER    NORTIIFIELD's    HOME;    OR, 

very  good,  religions  people,  with  many  good  precepts  in  their 
doctrine.  But  there  is  much  in  their  belief  that  calls  for  an 
amount  of  faith  wliich  I  am  incapable  of  exercising.  I  do 
not  see  why  these  other  denominations  are  not  quite  as  likely 
to  tide  us  safely  into  heaven  as  Mormonism,  and  certainly 
their  ways  are  much  pleasanter." 

"Ah,  Elsie,"  responded  Marion,  "you  seek  to  get  into 
heaven  by  an  easy  way.  'Straight  is  the  road,  narrow  is 
the  way,  and  few  there  be  that  find  it.'  Doesn't  Christ  say 
'follow  me,'  and  was  his  life  here  on  earth  an  easy  one? 
Did  he  not  say,  '  Thy  will,  not  mine,  be  done?  '  Did  he  not 
cast  in  his  lot  with  the  despised  and  lowly,  and  should  the 
disciple  be  above  his  Master?  Are  we  to  expect  to  wear  the 
crown,  if  we  do  not  bear  the  cross,  in  this  life?  I  am  filled 
with  peace  and  joy,  the  more  so  the  more  sacrifice  I  make 
for  the  kingdom.  I  never  knew  such  happiness  before,  and 
I  feel  like  being  just  as  holy  and  obedient  to  God  as  possible. 
The  greatest  pleasure  I  have  now  is  in  attending  these  meet- 
ings. The  Spirit  of  God  is  powerfully  manifested,  and  as 
you  know,  many  who  come  to  scoff  go  away  converted,  or 
thoughtful  at  least,  and  you,  Elsie,  I  think,  cannot  deny 
that  the  power  of  God  is  with  them,  as  though  they  were  his 
chosen  people." 

"  Yes,  Marion,  I  must  admit  the  meetings  have  an  influ- 
ence over  me  when  I  am  present,  and  the  elders  seem  to  prove 
all  they  say  from  the  Bible,  and  I  can't  for  my  life  reason 
their  arguments  away.  But  when  I  am  alone  I  begin  to 
think  for  myself,  and  somehow  I  can't  have  faith  in  these 
divine  revelations  to  Joseph  Smith  and  Brigham  Young.  I 
know,  as  they  say,  the  Bible  says  '  your  young  men  shall 
dream  dreams,  and  your  old  men  shall  see  visions.'  I  know 
they  say,  '  If  men  were  inspired  in  olden  times,  why  not 
now?  '  Perhaps  ^lormonism  is  the  true  religion  ;  but  I  can't 
believe  that  our  own  dear  mother,  that  dear  old  aunt  Eunice. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  7 

that  Agnes  Ainsworth,  who  died  so  s\veetl.y,  after  living  such 
a  good  life,  and  that  our  minister,  and  all  the  good  people 
"\ve  know,  must  be  shut  out  of  heaven  because  they  were  not 
gathered  into  the  Church  of  Latter-Day  Saints.  Their  idea 
of  a  new  dispensation  is  not  clear  to  me.  But  I  have  not 
received  so  many  private  lectures  on  the  subject  as  you  have, 
Marion.  After  so  much  conversation  as  you  have  enjoyed 
with  Elder  Northfield,  you  ought  to  understand  the  myste- 
ries of  the  doctrine  perfectly.  O,  do  not  try  to  hide  your 
blushes !  They  are  very  becoming — or  would  be  if  you  were 
not  so  plainly  dressed,  and  if  the  effect  were  heightened  by 
some  of  the  vanities  you  have  discarded  and  packed  in  my 
trunk.  It  would  be  but  a  poor  reward  for  all  his  devotion, 
his  earnest  love-making  and  missionary  zeal,  if  you  did  not 
sympathize  with  him  in  his  religion,  which  seems  to  be  a  part 
of  himself.  But  I  can't  help  thinking  that  he  has  rather  neg- 
lected me,  and  that  if  some  of  these  hours  devoted  to  3^ou  had 
been  spent  in  preaching  to  me,  he  might  have  been  rewarded 
for  the  sacrifice  by  adding  another  convert  to  his  list." 

"  I  wish  he  had,  Elsie ;  indeed  I  do." 

"  Well,  but  you  did  not  seem  to  wish  so  then,  Marion." 

"  I  will  not  be  so  selfish  any  more,  and  I  will  ask  him  on  the 
voyage  to  teach  you,  and  explain  all  these  things,  for  some- 
how I  am  not  good  at  explaining  them  myself,  though  they 
are  so  clear  to  me  as  Henry  expounds  to  me  the  doctrine." 

"  God  grant,  dear  sister,  that  you  may  always  be  as  happy 
in  your  religion  as  you  are  now  !  I  never  thought  we 
should  be  separated,  but  I  cannot  go  with  you  to  Utah,  for  I 
am  not  a  Mormon — unless  Henry  converts  me  on  the  way, 
and  I  fancy  his  bride  will  have  most  of  his  attention,  as  she 
has  heretofore." 

"  0,  I  pray  you  may  yet  see  the  light  and  go  with  me ! 
The  separation  from  you  is  the  only  cloud  in  my  sky. 
-With  you  and  Henry,  I  should  be  happy  anywhere !  " 


8  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME  ;   OR, 

"IMarion,  forgive  mc  if  I  say  nnytliing  to  grieve  3'on,  but 
to-morrow  I  give  you  to  Henry;  and  this  is  our  last  confi- 
dential talk  while  you  are  mine,  and  perhaps  for  a  great 
■while,  for  we  shall  scarcely  be  alone  hereafter,  and  some- 
thing tells  me  our  old  confidence  will  not  be  the  same  after 
you  are  married,  so  I  want  to  tell  you  all  my  thoughts  to- 
night. Are  you  sure  that  your  happiness,  peace,  and  joy 
come  from  this  heavenly  love  entirely  ?  I  observe  that 
"when  Henr}^  is  the  speaker  in  the  meetings  you  are  aroused 
to  much  more  enthusiasm  for  your  religion  than  at  other 
times.  Now  might  you  not  mistake  your  happiness,  and 
love  for  him,  and  your  interest  in  everything  that  interests 
him,  your  sympathy  with  him  in  all  he  thinks  and  believes, 
for  religious  devotion  ?  Are  you  sure  you  know  your  own 
heart,  Marion?  " 

"  0,  sister,  how  can^'€)U  ask  me  ?  " 

"I  did  not  mean  to  pain  you,  but  I  feared  your  religion 
alone  might  not  always  give  you  such  peace.  I  hope,  with 
all  my  soul,  it  will.     It  is  very  beautiful  to  think  so." 

"I  know  it  will,  Elsie!  I  love  Henry,  O,  so  much!  You 
cannot  think  how  much.  I  love  him  even  more  than  I  love 
you,  Elsie!  but  I  truly  believe  I  love  God  and  my  religion 
more.  Plenry  himself  has  taught  me  that  '  whosoever 
leaveth  not  father  and  mother,  sister  and  brother,  huslmnd 
and  wife,  for  God  and  the  gospel,  is  not  wortliy  to  be  reck- 
oned a  saint.'  I  think — yes,  I  think — I  would  leave  them  all 
if  God  required  the  sacrifice." 

"Then,  Marion,  dear,  I  did  you  injustice  in  my  thoughts, 
and  with  all  my  heart  I  hope,  in  your  new  life,  you  will  be, 
,as  you  seem  now,  perfectly  happy." 

"  Except  for  the  thought  of  leaving  3'ou  behind  ;  and  one 
other  thing  which  of  course  it  is  very  silly  to  mention,  or  to 
be  troubled  with.  But  I  will  open  my  heart  to  you,  as  you 
have  to  me,  on  this  last  night  we  may  be  alone  together. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    MORMON   ALTAR.  9 

Of  course  it  cannot  be  true — it  must  be  a  scandal — the 
report  we  heard  of  some  of  the  saints  in  Utah  having  more 
than  one  wife.  But  once  in  a  while — only  once  in  a  great 
while — my  heart  suddenly  sinks,  so  that  it  seems  as  if  I 
should  faint,  and  the  thought  of  that  report  flashes  into  my 
mind,  and  I  dismiss  it  as  suddenly.  Then  I  am  all  right 
again.  I  have  talked  with  Henry  about  it,  and  he  says  it  is 
a  foul  slander  against  the  church  of  God.  That  always 
God's  chosen  people  have  suffered  persecution  for  righteous- 
ness sake,  and  he  quoted  the  words,  '  Blessed  are  ye  when 
men  shall  revile  you,  and  shall  say  all  manner  of  evil  against 
you  falsely  for  my  name's  sake.'  Henry  does  not  in  the  least 
believe  that,  or  any  other  wickedness  is  sanctioned  there. 
You  know  the  saints  are  not  popular,  and  many  are  poor, 
and  public  opinion  is  against  them.  But  in  the  Celestial 
Kingdom,  they  will  have  honor  enough  to  compensate  for 
all  their  trials  here.  Henry  says  if  he  for  a  moment  sup- 
posed that  this  rumor  was  true,  he  never  could  believe  in 
Mormonism.  When  we  were  in  London,  at  the  conference, 
we  went  together  and  asked  an  elder  from  Utah,  and  he  was 
astonished  and  indignant,  and  denied  it  positivel3^  So  of 
course  there  can  be  no  truth  in  the  rumor,  and  I  feel  that  it 
is  wicked  to  even  think  of  such  an  unholy  thing.  I  resolve 
never  to  think  of  it  again,  but  still  the  thought  comes  like 
a  bUick  shadow  across  my  path.  Now,  Elsie,  can  it  be  pos- 
sible, do  you  think,  that  such  a  thing  is  practised  there?" 

"  Of  course  it  cannot  be,  Marion  !  I  do  not  for  one  mo- 
ment doubt  the  elder's  word.  I  wonder  you  even  think  of 
it  at  all — though  the  possibility  of  such  a  thing  would  be 
terrible  to  5^ou,  of  course,  as  you  are  to  be  a  Mormon  elder's 
wife.  These  men  are  good,  moral  men,  I  do  not  doubt  in 
the  least,  however  mistaken  they  may  be  in  their  belief,  and 
as  they  study  the  Bible,  and  take  everything  so  literally, 
they  would  be  the  last  to  disregard  its  plain  teachings  on 


10  ELDER    XORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;    OR, 

that  subject.  Wh}^ !  only  tlie  vilest  of  men  could  be  guilt}'  of 
such  a  crime,  and  certainly  these  Mormons  we  have  seen  are 
hitelligent,  noble-minded  men.  Your  own  promised  husband 
is  a  man  of  whom  a  woman  might  well  be  proud,  Marion. 
I  respect  him  as  I  respect  few  men,  and  admire  his  kind- 
heartedness,  his  intellect,  his  untiring  zeal  for  '  the  truth,'  as 
he  calls  it,  and  think  it  is  very  noble  of  him  to  sacrifice  his 
position  and  fine  prospects  as  he  did,  for  what  he  deemed 
his  duty,  and  cast  in  his  lot  with  this  people.  If  I  must  lose 
my  sister,  I  could  not  have  chosen  better  for  her.  But  O, 
if  he  were  not  a  Mormon,  and  would  not  take  you  away 
from  me  to  that  wild  and  far  away  place  !  Marion,  darling  I 
when  shall  I  ever  see  you  again  after  you  leave  me  in  New 
York!" 

"Come  with  me,  Elsie!  0,  that  you  might  be  persuaded 
to  give  up  all  for  religion  !  You  would  be  so  much  happier  ! 
See  how  I  am  changed— naturally  not  light-hearted  like 
you,  rather  inclined  to  sad,  morbid  feelings;  but  they  are  all 
gone,  and  now  I  am  much  the  happier  of  the  two.  Cast 
away  your  doubts  and  go  with  me  to  Utah,  and  you  Avill 
then  see  and  know  for  yourself  the  beauties  of  religion,  I 
do  believe.  O,  my  dear  sister,  w^on't  you — won't  you  come 
with  us?" 

"  I  can't,  Marion,  I  can't !  I  shiver  at  the  thought,  though 
why  I  don't  know  !  " 

Then  these  twin  sisters  mingled  their  tears  in  silence,  and 
their  hearts  were  knit  together  in  the  purest  and  strongest 
of  sisterly  love. 

Made  orphans  two  years  before,  by  the  death  of  a  kind 
and  loving  father,  they  became  more  dear  to  each  other  in 
their  common  sorrow,  and  were  one,  in  heart  and  soul,  as 
sisters  seldom  are.  Reared  in  comfort  in  a  happy  home  in 
England,  and  with  no  care  or  thought  of  poverty,  it  was  a 
great  change  to  find  with  their  father's  death,  they  were 
nearly  penniless. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  11 

Charles  Wescott  fully  lived  up  to  his  income,  and  in- 
dulged himself  and  daughters  to  many  luxuries  and  extrav- 
agances which  were  usually  confined  to  people  in  a  higher 
grade  of  social  life.  He  literally  took  "  no  thought  for  the 
morrow,"  and  his  young  and  sorrowful  daughters  found  that 
they  were  dependent  on  their  own  exertions  for  their  daily 
bread.  Elsie  obtained  a  situation  as  teacher  in  the  public 
schools,  and  Marion  was  kindly  employed  by  her  friends  to 
teach  music  to  their  children.  Recently  a  sister  of  their 
mother  (who  died  during  their  infancy)  had  written  to  them 
from  her  home  in  New  York,  begging  them  to  come  to  her, 
as  she  had  just  lost  by  death  her  only  daughter,  and  her 
elegant  home  was  desolate  and  lonely.  They  resolved  to 
go,  as  soon  as  they  could  properly  conclude  their  engage- 
ments.    Meanwhile  a  crisis  came  in  one  life  at  least. 

They  had  heard  of  the  Mormons,  or  Latter-Day  Saints, 
and  their  curiosity  was  excited.  One  day  as  they  returned 
from  their  labors  to  their  boarding-place,  and  entered  the 
parlor,  they  found  there  a  gentleman,  plainly  dressed  in 
black,  bending  over  a  large  Bible  lying  open  on  the  table. 
As  he  rose  and  apologized  for  his  presence,  and  begged  them 
to  remain,  he  displayed  a  fine  form,  and  handsome,  thought- 
ful face.  His  eyes,  large,  dark,  and  full  of  a  pleasant  light, 
seemed  to  look  beyond  the  surface,  into  the  inner  life.  His 
forehead,  high  and  intellectual,  was  shaded  by  soft  w^avy 
black  hair,  and  as  his  lips  parted  in  a  smile,  they  disclosed 
the  whitest  and  firmest  of  teeth.  Soon  he  was  on  pleasant 
terms  with  his  new  friends,  talking  with  them  familiarly. 
As  Elsie  saw  Marion's  eyes  light  up,  and  her  cheeks  glow 
with  enthusiasm,  she  did  not  fail  to  notice  the  glances  of 
admiration  the  gentleman  bestowed  on  her.  At  his  request 
Marion  seated  herself  at  the  piano.  Her  golden  hair  would 
stray  from  its  fastenings,  and  peep  out  in  little  rings  about 
her  neck  and  forehead.     Her  color  came  and  w^ent  and  con- 


12  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME 


stantly  changed  lier  face  from  the  paleness  of  marble  to  the 
loveliest  pink.  Pier  sky-blue  eyes  glanced  shyly  up  as  she 
spoke.  Elsie  came  near,  with  her  auburn  hair  and  fair, 
piquant  face,  her  large  brown  eyes  beaming  with  love  and 
pride  in  Marion's  accomplishment.  Their  new  acquaintance 
joined  them  in  their  songs  and  displayed  much  musical 
talent.  Thus  the  hour  before  tea  rapidly  passed,  and  then 
Mrs.  Newton,  the  lady  of  the  house,  appeared  and  intro- 
duced the  new-comer  as  Elder  Northfield.  Great  w^as  the 
surprise  of  Marion  and  Elsie  to  learn  that  their  new  ac- 
quaintance was  a  Mormon  elder,  and  that  lie  was  to  hold  a 
meeting  that  evening  in  a  small  hall.  They  resolved  to 
attend.  Mrs.  Newton  accompanied  them.  There  were  as- 
Bembled  only  a  few  people,  for  the  pastors  of  the  churches 
were  universally  opposed  to  the  new  movement  and  had 
warned  their  flocks  against  it.  The  young  elder,  after  an 
earnest  prayer,  in  a  clear  and  attractive  way  proclaimed  the 
doctrines  of  his  belief,  and,  with  Bible  in  hand,  proved  every 
assertion  from  its  pages.  Verse  after  verse,  chapter  after 
chapter,  he  readily  turned  to  or  repeated,  until  it  seemed 
that  they  were  listening,  not  to  his  words,  but  to  the  words 
of  the  Bible  brought  forth  in  a  new  light,  and  by  one  filled 
with  inspiration  from  on  high.  His  eloquence  and  earnest- 
ness increased  as  he  proceeded,  till  his  flice  was  transformed 
and  his  eyes  were  filled  with  what  seemed  a  heavenly  light. 
His  words  carried  more  or  less  of  conviction  to  every  heart. 
The  deepest  silence  reigned.  All  eyes  were  riveted  on  the 
speaker,  and  breathlessly  they  listened  to  his  closing  appeal 
to  cast  away  their  sins,  enter  the  true  Church  of  God,  and 
enjoy  that  wonderful  abiding  peace — the  fullness  of  joy.  He 
ofi'c'rcd  a  sliort  prayer,  appointed  another  meeting,  and  gave 
out  a  closing  iiynm,  wiiich  was  sung  by  the  whole  congre- 
gation. As  Marion  listened  to  his  voice  among  the  others, 
its  sweetness  thrilled  her  through  and  through,  and  she  felt 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  13 

that  to  cast  her  life  in  with  such  a  people,  to  be  filled  with 
the  same  holy  joy  with  which  this  man  was  blessed  was 
then  her  greatest  desire. 

The  meetings  continued  and  increased  in  size  and  interest, 
in  spite  of  the  efforts  to  oppose  them.  Marion  became  a  con- 
vert to  the  new  faith.  Mrs.  Newton  also  cast  her  lot  with  the 
saints,  and  Elsie  attended  the  meetings  faithfully  with  her 
sister,  but  she  did  not  come  into  the  faith.  The  elder,  Marion, 
and  Mrs.  Newton,  who,  with  Elsie,  then  comprised  the  family, 
labored  with  her,  to  bring  her  into  the  church,  a  saved  and 
happy  member.  All  to  no  purpose,  however.  She  resisted 
all  their  arguments  and  earnest  appeals,  and  failed  to  have 
faith  in  the  divine  revelations.  This  was  a  cause  of  grief  to 
Marion,  and  also  to  her  sister,  who  had  heretofore  never 
essentially  disagreed  with  Marion. 

Soon  the  admiring  glances,  and  slight  attentions  of  the 
elder,  to  the  golden-haired  Marion,  gave  place  to  long  con- 
versations and  quiet  walks,  and  often  Elsie  would  miss  her 
sister,  who  would  return  and  blushingl}''  confess  that  the 
elder  had  been  explaining  to  her  more  fully  some  points  in 
the  doctrine ;  or  that  the  elder  had  asked  her  to  walk  with 
him,  and  she  had  just  returned.  At  length  Marion  confided 
to  her  sister  that  Elder  Northfield  had  asked  her  to  be  his 
wife,  and  that  she  had  promised  him,  and  they  were  to  be 
married  and  emigrate  to  Zion  as  soon  as  he  should  be  per- 
mitted to  leave  the  missionary  work  in  other  hands.  She 
earnestly  pleaded  with  her  sister  to  accompany  her,  but 
Elsie  sorrowfully  refused,  and  said  she  would  go  with  them 
to  New  York,  and  there  remain  with  her  aunt. 

There  were  a  number  of  Mormons — elders  and  converts — 
on  board  the  sailing-vessel,  besides  Elder  Northfield  and  his 
bride,  who,  with  Elsie,  had  left  the  shores  of  their  native 
England,  and  were  sailing  across  the  ocean  to  America. 
Elsie's  predictions  were  fulfilled  as  to  the  elder's  devotion 


14  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;    OR, 

to  Marion  on  the  voyage,  to  tlie  exclusion  of  everything  else, 
save  always  his  religion.  He  evidently  had  given  up  all 
attempts  to  convert  her  to  the  new  faith,  and  slie  was  glad, 
for  she  was  secretly  wearied  with  it,  and  regarded  it  as  very 
annoying  to  herself,  and  as  being  the  cause  of  her  separation 
from  her  sister,  who  w^ould  leave  her  soon  among  perfect 
strangers  with  not  one  face  near  her  on  which  she  had  ever 
looked  before.  Elsie's  heart  was  very  heavy  at  times,  and 
all  Marion's  cheerfulness  and  joy  could  not  dispel  the  gloom. 
She  watched  her  sister  and  her  husband,  in  their  relations 
with  each  other,  with  an  anxious  mother  interest,  to  assure 
herself  that  Marion's  fond  anticipations  were  realized.  She 
was  satisfied.  Elder  Northfield  was  by  his  wife's  side  almost 
constantly,  except  when  engaged  in  conversation  with  the 
elders,  some  of  whom  were  from  Salt  Lake  City,  and  now 
returning,  after  having  converted  many  to  the  new  faith 
who  were  about  to  emigrate  in  great  numbers  to  Utah. 
Elsie  soon  conceived  a  great  dislike  for  one  elder  on  account 
of  a  foolish  infatuation  he  did  not  attempt  to  conceal,  for  a 
pretty  girl  who  was  young  enough  to  have  been  his  daughter. 
Marion  had  not  noticed  this,  for  her  own  love  affairs  had  so 
engrossed  her  attention,  and  she  had  the  most  unbounded 
faith  in  all  the  elders,  and  in  Elder  Parker  especially,  as  he 
was  directly  from  Zion  and  had  lived  on  intimate  terms 
with  Brigham  Young  himself.  She  was  one  day  talking  of 
the  elders  to  Elsie  and  casually  spoke  of  Elder  Parker's  wife. 
''  Elder  Parker's  wife,  Marion  !  Has  Elder  Parker  a  wife  ?  " 
"  Certainly,  and  five  children.  Why  do  you  seem  so  as- 
tonished? I  see.  You  think  strange  of  his  leaving  her  to 
come  to  England  and  preach  the  gospel.  Think  of  the 
sacrifice  it  must  have  been  for  him  to  leave  her  and  his 
little  ones,  of  whom  they  say  he  is  very  fond.  I  am  told 
that  his  wife,  who  is  very  devoted  to  him,  even  urged  him 
to  accept  the  mission,  and  accounted  herself  happy  and 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  15 

honored  in  giving  him  up  for  the  church.  O,  Elsie !  Could 
I  ever  be  willing  to  part  with  my  Henr}^  if  it  were  my  duty! 
I  fear  I  am  not  submissive  enough,  but  hope  I  shall  become 
willing  to  do,  or  be  anything  in  God's  hands,  when  I  am 
fairly  within  the  fold  in  Zion.  But  speaking  of  Elder 
Parker,  now  how  happy  his  family  will  be  made  by  his 
arrival.  I  quite  like  to  think  of  it,  and  imagine  the  meet- 
ing between  him  and  his  wife." 

Elsie  thought  she  would  not  like  to  imagine  or  witness  a 
meeting  between  him  and  his  wife  at  that  moment,  for  on 
deck  the  lovers  were  standing,  hand  in  hand,  and  at  the 
elder's  whispered  words  the  color  came  into  the' girl's  face 
and  then  left  her  quite  composed.  She  did  not  directly 
answer  Marion,  but  from  that  time  she  began  to  lose  faith 
in  the  goodness  of  the  Utah  Mormons,  though  she  still  be- 
lieved her  countrymen  and  women  were  honest  and  sincere, 
though  they  might  have  been  deceived.  Marion's  husband 
she  believed  was  a  good  man.  He  had  become  converted 
and  joined  the  saints  in  England,  and  on  account  of  his 
talents  and  zeal,  hM  been  ordained  elder,  and  had  acted 
efficiently  in  that  capacity.  He  believed  in  his  religion  as 
devoutly  as  he  did  in  his  Marion.  He  loved  it  as  he  did 
Marion.  He  endeavored  to  conscientiously  obey  every  word 
of  counsel,  from  those  above  him  in  the  church.  He  de- 
voutly believed  all  they  taught,  and  accepted  their  teach- 
ings as  being  the  revealed  will  of  God  to  man. 

El-sie  began  to  notice  a  cloud  on  his  brow,  and  a  sorrow- 
ful glance  occasionally  at  Marion,  when  the  latter  did  not 
observe  him.  She  saw  him  holding  a  great  deal  of  very 
earnest  conversation  with  the  elders,  and  by  his  appearance 
he  was  antagonistic  to  all  the  others.  They  appeared  to 
change  the  subject  as  Marion  approached  her  husband,  and 
he  lovingly  took  her  arm  in  his.  Jealously  watching  every- 
thing likely  to  affect  Marion,  it  made  her  uneasy.     Marion 


16  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

at  last  seemed  to  notice  a  change  in  her  husband,  or  in  his 
ways,  and  said  to  Elsie,  "  I  wish  Henry  would  not  talk  with 
the  elders  quite  so  much,  though  I  fear  it  is  wrong  for  me  to 
wish  that.  I  am  so  selfish  that  I  want  him  with  me  all  the 
time.  Of  course  it  is  right  that  he  should  learn  all  he  can 
from  them  and  talk  with  them  a  great  deal.  I  am  glad  he 
is  so  devoted  to  his  religion." 

A  day  or  two  later  she  said  to  Elsie :  "  Elsie,  do  3'ou 
know  what  the  word  polygamy  means?  I  went  up  to  the 
group  of  elders  to  speak  to  Henry,  and  I  heard  the  word 
polygamy  uttered  two  or  three  times,  and  then  something 
about  Abraham  and  the  olden  time,  and  that  was  all  I 
heard,  for  they  noticed  me  then  and  stopped  talking.  Henry 
did  not  leave  them  and  join  me  as  he  often  does ;  but  they 
asked  me  to  be  seated  with  them,  and  although  I  would 
like  to  have  stayed  with  my  husband,  I  saw  that  I  was  inter- 
rupting their  conversation,  so  I  came  away.  I  will  ask 
Henry  when  he  comes  what  they  were  talking  about.  Have 
you  any  idea,  Elsie,  what  the  word  polygamy  means  ?  " 

"I  am  sure  I  cannot  tell  you,  Marion,  its  meaning. 
Probably  it  is  one  of  the  terms  peculiar  to  the  Mormon 
faith,  like  many  others  that  are  not  common  among  the 
'  world's  people.' " 

Elsie's  heart  was  filled  with  terrible  forebodings,  as  what 
she  saw  and  heard  recalled  the  old  scandal  concerning  the 
saints  in  Utah.  She  had  some  idea  of  the  meaning  of  the 
word,  but  would  not  needlessly  alarm  Marion  by  telling  her 
fears.  O  why  had  she  been  so  sure  there  was  no  truth  in 
the  report!  Why  had  she  quieted  Marion's  fears,  which 
might  have  been  fostered  and  prevented  her  marriage  and 
emigration !  Why  had  she — so  faithless  as  regarded  their 
doctrines — trusted  implicitly  in  their  goodness  and  morality  ! 
Why  had  she  not  remained  away  from  their  meetings  and 
kept  Marion  away !     No,  that  would  have  been  impossible. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    MORMON   ALTAR.  17 

Marion  would  have  followed  Elder  Northfield  anywhere. 
His  influence  was  stronger  than  hers.  Since  he  looked  at 
her  with  those  fascinating  eyes,  Marion  had  become  another 
person.  Elsie  mourned  that  her  sister  was  lost  to  her,  and 
looked  with  dread  upon  Marion's  future.  Then  she  tried  to 
reason  away  her  fears  and  believe  all  was  well.  She  told 
herself  no  religious  society  could  be  so  degraded  in  this  en- 
lightened age  as  to  adopt  such  a  practice.  The  United  States 
Government  would  not  allow  it,  of  course.  And  Elsie  nearly 
persuaded  herself  that  her  fears  were  groundless. 

When  Marion  was  alone  with  her  husband,  she  asked  him 
what  the  elders  meant  by  the  word  polygamy,  and  of  what 
they  were  speaking,  and  why  they  so  suddenly  stopped  at 
her  approach.  A  look  of  annoyance  and  sadness  came  upon 
Elder  Northfield's  face,  and  his  only  answer  was  to  caress 
his  young  wife.  She  repeated  her  question.  "Ask  me  to- 
morrow, Marion,"  he  said. 

"  But,  Henry,  cannot  you  tell  me  now  ?  "  and  the  blue 
eyes  were  filled  with  the  tears  that  had  been  gathering  all  day. 

"  No,  dearest,  I  can't  tell  you  now.  You  love  me  enough 
to  wait  for  my  answer,  I  know." 

"  Yes,  Henry,  but  it  is  strange  you  cannot  tell  me  now. 
Is  it  something  dreadful?  You  look  so  strange.  Is  it — 
is  it—" 

"  Come,  Marion,  let  us  join  Elsie  now  and  think  of  some- 
thing else." 

The  next  day  Marion  came  to  Elsie,  with  weary  step  and 
faltering  lips.  Her  face  had  lost  all  its  happiness— her  eye 
all  its  brightness.  Pale  and  sad,  she  laid  her  head  on  Elsie's 
shoulder,  and  after  a  deep  sigh  she  said :  "  I  came  to  tell 
you,  Elsie,  that  I  have  found  out  what  the  word  polygamy 
means." 

"  Have  you  ?  "  said  Elsie.    "  I  have  found  out,  too,  my  poor 
child !     And  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?  " 
2 


18  ELDER   XORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;    OR, 

"Do?  What  can  I  do,  Elsie?  There  is  nothing  that  I 
can  do ;  but  0  !  thank  heaven  !  /shall  never  know  by  expe- 
rience what  it  means.  My  dear,  dear  Henry !  He  will  be 
true  to  me,  and  me  alone." 

"  How  can  you  be  sure  of  that?  " 

"  I  have  his  word,  and  he  never  broke  it,  and  I  trust  him  '- 
but  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it.  O,  I  am  so  miserable,  to 
think  that  the  religion  I  have  loved  so  well  has  proved  to 
have  such  a  terrible  curse  attached  to  it!  Just  think  of  it! 
Henry  tells  me  that  the  saints  (are  they  saints  or  are  they 
sinners  ?)  have  as  many  wives  as  they  please  and  can  sup- 
port, and  the  more  they  have,  the  more  honor  to  them  in 
the  Celestial  Kingdom.  Even  Elder  Parker,  whom  I  have 
esteemed  so  highly,  has  three  wives  at  home,  and  on  arriving 
at  Salt  Lake  City  will  take  another,  the  pretty  young  En-Hsh 
girl  you  and  I  have  seen  with  him  on  deck.  Elsie,  I  think 
this  is  terrible!  My  faith  in  everything  about  Mormonism 
is  shaken  now — and  I  did  so  love  my  religion.  I  thought 
they  were  all  so  good,  and  Henry  did,  too.  He  never  be- 
lieved in  polygamy  being  a  doctrine  of  the  saints.  They 
always  denied  it  to  him,  and  since  we  have  been  on  board 
this  vessel,  the  elders  have  faithfully  labored  with  him,  to 
convince  him  that  it  is  right.  At  first  he  was  shocked. 
But  0  !  Elsie !  Here  comes  the  worst  trial  of  all !  I  can  see 
that  gradually  they  are  influencing  him  and  weakening  his 
scruples.  He  places  such  implicit  trust  in  all  the  higher 
authorities,  and  iu  their  divine  inspirations,  that  he  has 
hitherto  accepted  anything  that  they  have  taught  him. 
They  are  now  working  hard  to  prove  to  him  that  plural 
marriages  are  ordained  of  heaven.  They  are  very  skilful, 
and  talk  about  Abraham  and  all  the  men  in  the  old  Bible 
times  having  more  than  one  wife  and  being  blessed  of  God. 
They  say  this  new  dispensation  is  to  resemble  the  old  one, 
and  Henry  is  going  to  get  a  copy  of  the  revelation,  and  we 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  19 

are  to  peruse  it  together.  He  believes  all  the  other  doctrines 
just  as  firmly  as  ever,  while  1  begin  to  feel  doubtful  of  cvery- 
thino:,  just  as  you  always  have.  He  does  not  yet  believe  in 
polygamy,  but  says  they  make  it  look  so  plausible  that  he 
cannot  answer  their  arguments.  He  dreaded  to  tell  me,  be- 
cause he  knew  of  my  horror  at  the  thought,  before  we  left 
England,  but  he  assured  me  with  the  strongest  of  promises 
that  never  would  he  enter  into  polygamy,  and  I  should  be 
his  only  wife.  He  cared  not  for  so  high  a  place  in  the  king- 
dom, if  I  only  were  at  his  side.  The  plural  wife  system  is 
as  utterly  repugnant  to  his  feelings  as  it  is  to  mine,  and 
although  others  may  be  justified  in  it,  he  never  could.  He 
thinks  they  are  in  error,  and  will  see  their  wrong;  but  they 
tell  him  when  he  has  read  the  revelation,  he  will  be  fully 
convinced.  Now,  it  looks  to  me  like  wickedness,  instead  of 
error.  I  can  look  at  it  in  no  other  way,  and  the  whole  of 
this  belief  that  did  look  so  bright  to  me  now  looks  dark.  I 
thought  he  would  leave  the  Mormons  if  this  were  true,  but 
I  see  he  has  no  thought  of  it.  He  believes  they  are  in  the 
main  right  at  least.  O!  now  I  dread  to  enter  Zion  as  much 
as  I  did  desire  to  do  so !  To  live  in  the  midst  of  polygamy, 
though  I  know  I  never  shall  enter  it!  I  have  perfect  faith 
that  Henry  will  always  be  mine  alone,  or  my  heart  would 
surely  break.  Those  poor  women !  Though  they  say  it  is 
part  of  their  religion,  and  they  are  contented  and  happy,  as 
they  consider  it  tlie  will  of  heaven,  and  they  submit,  and 
God  blesses  them.  O!  I  never  could  submit — never!  if  I 
knew  I  should  not  enter  heaven  !  O !  Elsie !  Elsie !  How 
little  I  thought  when  I  left  my  home,  such  a  ha^ipy  bride, 
that  I  should  so  soon  be  so  miserable  !  " 

And  Marion  laid  her  head  in  Elsie's  lap,  and  sobbed, 
while  Elsie  stroked  her  golden  head,  and  called  her  by  the 
many  endearing  names  she  had  been  wont  in  their  girlhood 
days.     "  Marion,"  said  Elsie,  when  the  storm  of  grief  was 


20  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's    HOME;    OR, 

over,  and  the  tearful  eyes  and  bowed  head  were  at  last 
raised,  "Marion,  you  must  not  go  to  Salt  Lake  City!  You 
must  never  live  in  the  midst  of  such  w-ickedness  and 
misery.  There  can  be  no  happiness  for  my  darling  sister 
there." 

"  Elsie,  you  forget  that  I  am  married,  and  that  where  my 
husband  goes,  I  must  go.  Where  he  goes,  I  want  to  go,  and 
in  his  hands  lies  our  future,"  Marion  answered  with  some 
spirit. 

"  Your  husband  must  not  go  to  Utah.  He  must  not  take 
you  away  from  me,  to  a  place  where  you  W'ill  be  unhappy. 
I  could  give  you  up  if  I  felt  sure  your  own  life  would  be 
the  peaceful  one  you  have  thought  it  would.  But  to  go 
now,  Marion — no,  Elder  Northfield  must  not  take  his  bride 
to  any  but  a  happy  home.  Persuade  him  to  remain  in 
New  York.  He  can  easily  find  employment  there.  Plead 
with  him  not  to  go  to  Utah.  Use  all  your  influence — and  it 
is  great,  Marion — to  persuade  him  to  give  up  his  project  of 
emigrating  to  Zion.  He  loves  you  too  much,  I  do  believe,  to 
refuse  your  earnest  entreaties." 

"  No,  Elsie,"  sadly  answered  Marion,  "  you  are  wrong.  I 
did  not  think  I  would  tell  you,  but  I  will.  I  did  ask  him 
not  to  go  to  Utah,  but  to  remain  in  New  York,  and  though 
he  did  not  positively  refuse  me,  I  can  see  that  he  considers 
it  our  duty  to  go  on,  and  duty  to  him  is  law.  Much  as  he 
loves  me,  I  believe  he  loves  his  religion  better,  and  it  grieves 
him  to  see  me  so  sad,  especially  after  his  repeated  promises 
not  to  bring  sorrow  to  my  heart.  So  I  will  not  trouble  him 
more  than  need  be,  for  this  has  been  a  trial  to  him,  too.  I 
mean  to  go  with  him  clieerfully,  and  after  a  little,  I  dare 
say  I  shall  become  quite  contented  again,  and  perhaps  when  I 
know  more  of  Mormon  life,  it  will  appear  less  repugnant  to 
me.  Certainly  my  own  home  mny  always  be  a  happy  one, 
and  if  other  women  are  not  made  miserable  by  polygamy, 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  21 

why  should  I  make  myself  miserable  by  my  sympathy  for 
them  ?  " 

"  0, "  thought  Elsie,  "  that  I  could  have  Marion's  confi- 
dence in  her  husband.  Oh,  that  I  could  feel  sure  as  she 
does,  that  her  husband  never  will  bring  sorrow  to  her  heart. 
He  means  all  he  says,  no  doubt,  now,  but  in  the  coming 
3'ears,  in  the  midst  of  Mormon  influence,  and  with  all  his 
faith  in  Mormon  teachings,  will  he  still  be  true  to  my 
darhng?     0,  why  did  I  not  see  all  this  and  prevent  it?" 

It  was  this  dark  foreboding,  this  unspoken  dread,  that 
caused  Elsie  to  resolve  to  prevent  her  sister  from  ever  arriv- 
ing; at  her  intended  destination* 

With  this  resolution  she  sought  an  opportunity  to  con- 
vince her  brother-in-law  of  the  imhappiness  he  was  bring- 
ing to  his  wife.  Believing  that  Marion  had  not  allowed  him 
to  know  the  intensity  of  her  disappointment  and  sorrow,  she 
felt  sure  his  heart  would  be  easily  touched  by  a  plea  for  her, 
and  he  might  be  persuaded  for  her  sake  to  abandon  his 
purpose  of  spending  his  life  in  Utah.  But  Elsie  was  the 
one  person  with  whom  Elder  Northfield  did  not  care  to  be 
left  tete-d-tete.  He  avoided  her  clear,  penetrating  eyes,  and 
shrunk  from  the  scorn  with  which  he  knew  she  would  treat 
the  new  doctrine.  Uneasy  and  dissatisfied  himself,  and  un- 
comfortable at  the  thought  of  his  young  wife's  sadness,  he 
did  not  wish  to  be  made  more  so  by  Elsie's  sharp  arguments 
or  appeals,  so  he  took  good  care  not  to  be  alone  with  her 
during  the  few  remaining  days  of  the  voyage.  This  she  ob- 
served, but  consoled  herself  by  thinking  that  when  they  ar- 
rived at  New  York,  where  all  the  Mormons  on  board  were  to 
remain  for  a  few  days,  until  the  arrival  of  the  next  emigrant 
vessel,  and  then  journey  together  to  Utah — there  at  her 
aunt's  he  could  not  so  easily  avoid  her.  In  this,  also,  she 
was  to  be  disappointed. 


22  ELDER  NORTHFIELD's  HOME;   OR, 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE  voyage  had  been  a  tiresome  one,  as  all  voyages  were 
in  the  days  of  slow  sailing  vessels,  and  now  as  they  were 
Hearing  land,  a  general  cheerfulness  pervaded  the  whole  ship. 
Anticipations  of  meeting  friends,  excitement  of  life  in  a  new 
countr\^,  and  last  visits  with  acquaintances  formed  on  the 
voyage,  caused  a  lively,  pleasant  excitement,  quite  in  con- 
trast with  the  former  monotony  on  board.  Elder  Parker 
and  his  infatuated  English  girl  were  rapturously  happy,  and 
were  thinking  of  celebrating  their  marriage  immediately 
after  their  arrival  in  New  York.  All  the  Mormon  elders  were 
very  jovial  now  (save,  perhaps,  Elder  Northfield),  and  even 
Elsie  and  Marion  had  regained  some  of  their  former  good 
spirits,  and  were  anticipating  much  pleasure  in  spending 
some  days  together  with  their  aunt  and  seeing  the  attrac- 
tions of  the  great  American  metropolis.  But  one  day  Elder 
Northfield  came  to  his  wife,  saying,  "  Marion,  I  have  made 
excellent  arrangements  for  our  accommodations  on  our  ar- 
rival in  New  York,  close  by  the  Mormon  boarding-house  and 
publishing  rooms.  Tliere  is  no  room  for  us  at  the  boarding- 
house,  but  Elder  Crosby  promises  to  secure  us  board  in  a 
private  Mormon  family,  near  where  he  is  to  board,  and 
where  Elder  Parker  will  take  Carrie  w'hen  she  becomes  his 
wife." 

"  0,  Henry,  I  never  for  a  moment  supposed  we  would  go 
anywhere  except  to  my  aunt's.  She  expects  us  and  will  be 
very  much  disappointed  if  we  do  not  go  to  her  home.  And 
Elsie   will    be    there — and — and — I   thoudit — "      Marion's 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  23 

voice  failed  her,  and  her  e5^es  filled  with  tears.  This  new 
trial  was  too  much  for  her  composure. 

"  Why,  Marion,  I  thought  you  would  be  pleased  with  the 
arrangement,  and  supposed  you  expected  to  give  up  all  Gen- 
tile associations.  You  know,  dear,  we  are  to  give  up  the 
world.  You  have  sacrificed  all  for  religion,  haven't  you, 
Marion,  and  cast  in  your  lot  with  mine  ?  And  the  elders 
all  very  much  disapprove  of  associating  with  the  world's 
people,  and  we  cannot  directly  disobey  counsel.  Besides,  I 
think  in  your  state  of  mind,  you  are  much  better  off  entirely 
away  from  all  Gentile  influence.  I  am  sure  you  will  be 
quite  contented  there.  The  elders  say  it  is  a  very  pleasant 
boarding-place.  We  will  look  over  the  city  together,  and 
cannot  my  darling  be  happy  with  me?  Marion,  I  am  quite 
jealous  of  Elsie.  I  did  think  you  loved  me  more  than  any 
one  else,  but  if  Elsie  is  necessary  to  your  happiness,  what 
can  I  infer  from  that?" 

"  0  nothing,  Henry,  only  that  I  am  to  go  so  far  away  from 
her,  and  perhaps  never  see  her  again,  and  you  know  she  is 
so  very  dear  to  me,  and  we  never  have  been  separated.  I  do 
love  you  best.  O,  please  do  not  doubt  that,  and  I  wdll  will- 
ingly go  wherever  you  think  best.  But  it  is  a  disappoint- 
ment to  me,  for  we  should  have  such  a  pleasant  visit  alto- 
gether at  my  aunt's ;  but  as  you  say  I  am  perhaps  better 
away  from  such  influence,  for  I  am  so  in  doubt  about  the 
doctrines  that  it  would  require  but  little  to  take  away  all  my 
faith.  As  I  am  to  be  a  Mormon,  I  shall  be  happier  in  be- 
lieving in  Mormonism  than  in  rebellion  against  its  teachings. 
Henry,  believe  that  I  do  love  you  with  my  whole  heart,  and 
where  you  go  I  will  go." 

For  reply  her  husband  tenderly  drew  her  to  him  and 
pressed  a  kiss  upon  her  lips. 

"  But,  Henry,"  Marion  resumed,  "  I  wish  Elder  Parker  and 
Carrie  were  not  going  to  be  near  us.     Somehow  I  feel  such  a 


24  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;   OR, 

disgust  for  that  man.  And  that  pretty  girl  who  seems  so 
happy  and  so  perfectly  trustful  in  the  future — how  I  pity 
her — to  be  a  man's  fourth  wife !  All  living  wives,  too.  She 
cannot  know  what  she  is  doing.  She  must  be  a  weak- 
minded  person,  it  seems  to  me,  to  ever  become  resigned, 
and  even  happy  in  contemplation  of  the  future." 

"  Perhaps,  Marion,  she  is  wiser  than  you  in  accejDting  the 
doctrine  so  implicitly.  It  may  be  no  other  Mormon  woman 
looks  at  polygamy  with  the  horror  you  have  of  it.  They 
tell  me  the  women  of  Utah  are  happy  and  contented  in  their 
life  and  religion,  and  I  hope  my  wife  will  become  again  the 
trustful,  happy  believer  in  the  faith  that  she  was  before  this 
revelation  was  made  known  to  us." 

"  My  fiiith  may  come  back  to  me  as  I  once  believed,  but 
never  1  never !  can  I  believe  in  polygamy  or  accept  it  as  from 
God.  But  it  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  believe  in  that,  Henry, 
because  we  are  never  to  know  personally  what  it  is." 

"No,  darling;  no  other  shall  ever  enter  my  home  or  my 
heart.     You  are  the  only  one  I  shall  ever  call  '  wife.'  " 


It  was  on  one  of  the  sunniest  mornings  of  early  spring 
that  an  elegant  private  carriage  w^as  driven  up  to  one  of  the 
New  York  hotels  and  a  sad-faced  lady,  clad  in  the  deepest 
of  mourning,  alighted  and  entered  the  house.  After  search- 
ing the  register,  with  a  dissatisfied  look,  she  requested  to  be 
shown  to  the  room  of  Miss  Elsie  Wescott.  Just  as  she 
reached  the  door,  it  opened,  and  standing  just  within  stood 
Marion.  She  had  regained  much  of  her  former  sprightliness 
in  the  excitement  of  her  arrival,  and  some  remark  of  Elsie's 
had  caused  a  smile  to  light  her  whole  face ;  her  hair  was 
allowed  to  fall  in  wavy  masses  down  her  shoulders,  and  a 
ray  of  sunlight  made  it  sparkle  and  shine  like  burnished 
gold.  Each  stood  gazing  at  the  other  for  a  few  seconds,  when 
the  elder  lady  exclaimed  : 

"  I  know  this  is  Marion !" 


SACRIFICED    ON   THE    MORMON   ALTAR.  25 

"And  I  know  this  is  aunt  Wells !  Elsie!  Elsie!  Aunt 
has  found  us  before  we  have  had  time  to  find  her."  And 
the  sad-faced  lady,  after  lavishing  kisses  and  caresses  on  the 
two,  took  one  face  between  her  hands  and  said : 

"  You,  Marion,  are  like  your  mother,  my  dear  sister 
Marion,  as  I  last  saw  her,  and  you,  Elsie,"  as  she  gently 
caressed  Elsie's  auburn  hair,  "  are  like  my  own  dear  Lillian, 
who  has  left  my  heart  so  desolate,  and  who  now  lies  by  her 
father's  side.  How  I  shall  love  you  both,  and  how  I  thank 
God  for  sending  you  to  me  in  my  loneliness.  I  should  not 
have  waited  till  to-day  had  I  known  of  the  arrival  of  your 
vessel  yesterday.  I  was  very  fortunate  in  finding  out  your 
hotel — but  we  will  not  talk  any  more  here,  for  I  shall  have 
you  in  my  own  home  presently,  and  your  own  home,  too,  it 
must  be.  And  0  !  my  darlings !  I  do  hope  you  may  be  so 
happy  there  that  you  will  not  leave  it  for  many  years. 
Kow,  how  soon  can  you  be  ready  to  go  with  me?  You  are 
mine  now.     Tell  me  that  it  is  so,  Elsie — Marion." 

"  I  will  be  yours,  0  !  so  gladly,  aunt,"  said  Elsie ;  ^'  but 
Marion  belongs  to  another.  She  is  spending  this  morning 
with  me  in  this  my  room ;  but  her  husband  is  coming  to 
take  her  away  in  a  few  hours,  and  my  twin-sister  is  soon  to 
be  separated  from  me,  perhaps  forever." 

"  0 !  Marion  !  Is  this  true  ?  And  you  are  so  young  to  be 
a  wife!  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  and  spare  me  this  disap- 
pointment ?  " 

"  I  did  not  know  it  myself  for  a  certainty  the  last  time  I 
wrote  you,  and  then  afterwards  I  thought  I  would  rather  tell 
you  than  write  it.  I  scarcely  realize  all  that  has  passed 
myself." 

And  Marion  spoke  truly.  It  seemed  to  her  that  all  things 
had  so  changed  since  the  day  she  first  met  Elder  Northfield 
that  years,  instead  of  a  few  short  months,  must  have 
passed. 


26  ELDER    NORTIIFIELD's   HOME 


''  But  tell  me  of  your  husband  and  what  this  separation 
means.     What  is  your  new  name?" 

"  I  am  Marion  Northlield  noAV,  aunt  Wells,  and  my  hus- 
band is — is — " 

O  how  Elsie  pitied  her  sister,  as  she  saw  how  she  dreaded 
to  utter  the  word  Mormon.  Marion  seemed  to  choke,  and 
her  eyes  sank  beneath  the  gaze  of  her  aunt.  Elsie  longed  to 
help  her,  but  was  silent. 

"  My  husband  is  a  Mormon  elder,  and  we  are  on  our  way 
to  Salt  Lake  City,"  Marion  answered. 

"  Marion  !  You  the  wife  of  a  Mormon  elder !  Elsie,  tell 
me,  can  that  be  true!  My  sister's  child  a  victim  of  that 
greatest  curse  and  blight  of  our  country,  not  even  excepting 
slavery !" 

"  Yes,  aunt,  it  is  too  true,"  said  Elsie,  "  and  Marion  is  soon 
to  be  in  the  midst  of  it." 

"  No,  never,  if  I  can  save  her !  Child,  you  must  never  go  to 
Salt  Lake  City !  You  must  never  leave  me  !  You  poor  de- 
luded girl !  Would  you  ruin  your  life  ?  Would  you  be  for- 
ever miserable  in  polygamy  ?  " 

"  No,  aunt  Wells,  polygamy  will  never  make  me  misera- 
ble, except  as  I  may  sympathize  with  others  if  I  see  them 
suffering  from  it.  My  husband  will  never  enter  into  it.  He 
dislikes  it  as  much  as  I  do,  and  only  on  our  vo3"age  from 
England  did  we  learn  that  it  was  one  of  the  doctrines  of  the 
saints.  I  have  his  most  solemn  assurance  that  never  will  he 
take  another  wife  while  I  live,  and  I  know  he  will  be  true  to 
me  and  his  word.  I  shall  go  on  with  him  to  Salt  Lake 
City,  aunt  Wells.  He  considers  it  his  duty  to  go  there,  and 
it  is  my  duty  to  go  with  him  and  also  my  desire." 

Mrs.  Wells  was  astonished  at  the  change  so  suddenly  come 
over  Marion,  as  she  answered  her  with  so  much  wounded 
dignit)\  Her  blue  eyes,  so  mild  and  timid  a  moment  before, 
now  flashed  with  resentment  at  her  aunt's  imjDlied  scorn  for 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  27 

her  husband  and  his  religion.     Her  slight  figure  was  drawn 
up  to  its  utmost  height  as  she  tried  to  control  her  anger. 

"  Forgive  me,  Marion,  for  having  offended  you ;  but,  my 
dear,  let  me  tell  you  what  I  know.  I  know  other  young, 
trusting  wives,  who  were  as  sure  of  their  husband's  fidelity 
as  you  are  of  yours,  and  I  know  how  cruelly  they  have  been 
deceived.  One  of  my  dearest  friends — my  little  Lillian's 
governess — married  a  Mormon  elder,  who  promised  with  all 
a  lover's  w^armth  and  enthusiasm  as  your  husband  has 
promised.  That  man  has  broken  his  vow  and  his  young 
wife's  heart  by  marrying  two  more  wives  since  he  arrived  at 
Salt  Lake  City.  She  lives  utterly  neglected,  I  have  heard, 
wdth  her  two  little  ones,  a  few  miles  from  the  city,  striving 
by  every  means  to  keep  herself  and  babes  from  starving,  and 
yet  she  was  as  young  and,  perhaps,  as  fair  as  you  are.  That 
man  is  Elder  Parker.  Do  you  wonder  at  the  horror  I  have 
of  seeing  my  sister's  child — her  own  image — exposed  to  such 
sorrow?  Do  you  wonder  that  I  have  no  confidence  in  the 
promises  of  a  Mormon  ?  " 

Marion  had  sank  into  a  chair  and  looked  so  miserable  and 
frightened  that  her  aunt's  heart  ached  for  her. 

"  My  dear,  I  would  not  torture  you  with  my  fears — I 
grieve  to  do  it — but  you  know  less  of  Mormonism,  probably, 
than  I  do,  although  you  are  a  Mormon  yourself.  You  know 
little  of  the  influence  that  will  be  brought  to  bear  upon 
your  husband  when  directly  under  Brigham  Young's  con- 
trol. You  know  not  how  almost  impossible  it  is  for  a  man 
to  withstand  the  constant  commands  and  counsels  to  marry 
again.  No  doubt,  Marion,  your  husband  is  sincere  now,  but 
in  the  years  to  come,  when  the  roses  have  faded  from  your 
cheeks,  and  the  sparkle  gone  from  your  eye,  when  lines  of 
care  and  sorrow  have  come  into  your  face,  will  he  be  more 
true  than  every  other  man  just  as  honorable  and  sincere  as 
he  now  is?" 


28  ELDER   NORTHFIELd's   HOME  ;   OR, 

"  Yes,  I  believe  he  will,  and  I  cannot  bear  that  you  should 
ppeak  so  of  him.  Please  do  not  any  more.  I  see  no  reason 
for  your  trying  to  destroy  my  fiiith  in  my  husband.  I  think 
it  is  wrong — unkind  of  you." 

"  It  would  be,  Marion,  the  most  cruel  wrong  I  could  do 
you  were  it  not  to  save  you  from  greater  trouble.  It  is  not 
your  faith  in  your  husband  as  a  man,  as  a  husband,  that  I 
would  weaken ;  but  your  faith  in  him  as  a  Mormon." 

"And  if  you  succeed,  aunt  Wells,  what  will  you  have 
gained,  except  to  have  made  me  miserable,  and  needlessly 
so?" 

"  I  will  have  gained  everything,  child — everything  for  you. 
I  will  have  saved  you  from  a  miserable  existence — from  a 
life  of  grief  and  despair.  I  will  have  secured  to  you  the 
happiness  and  confidence  you  heretofore  have  enjoyed  in 
your  husband.  For  with  the  influence  you  must  have 
over  him,  the  horror  you  will  have  of  a  life  in  polygamy, 
you  will,  through  some  means,  persuasion,  or  stratagem,  or 
rebellion,  even,  keep  him  away  from  that  city  where 
my  poor  friend's  life  and  so  many  others  have  been 
wrecked." 

"Aunt  Wells,  you  do  not  know  my  husband.  He  does 
love  me — Elsie  will  tell  you  so — with  his  whole  heart,  but 
he  loves  God  most,  I  believe,  and  what  he  thinks  it  his  duty 
to  do,  that  he  Avill  do.  I  have  grieved  him  enough  by  rebel- 
ling against  his  wishes  and  his  religion,  and  I  cannot  be- 
lieve, as  you  would  have  me,  that  his  vow  to  me  will  be 
broken.  I  do  not  believe  in  this  religion  as  I  did  before  we 
learned  of  polygamy.  I  hate  that ;  but  before  I  was  so  happy 
in  the  new  faith,  and  was  so  glad  at  the  thought  of  gather- 
ing with  all  the  saints,  prophets  and  apostles,  under  the 
direct  guidance  of  the  great  leader  of  the  Mormon  Church, 
that  I  cannot  throw  away  all  my  hopes  of  happiness  yet. 
If  I  could  believe  as  you  do,  aunt   Wells,  that   my  hus- 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  29 

band  would  ever  take  another  wife,  all  would  be  changed. 
No !  I  believe  I  should  not  change !  I  should  love  him 
still !  " 

"But,  Marion,  you  will  at  least  try  to  persuade  him. 
There  is  room  and  a  welcome  for  you  all  at  my  home  ;  there  is 
employment  or  business  enough  in  New  York  for  Elder 
Northfield.  I  want  you  near  me ;  Elsie  wants  you.  Do  not 
leave  us  without  at  least  trying  to  prevent  it." 

Marion  threw  her  arms  around  her  aunt's  neck,  and  said : 
"  Dearest  aunt !  How  I  should  love  you  !  How  I  wish  it 
might  be  as  you  say  !  How  I  suffer  at  thought  of  parting 
with  Elsie !  I  know  you  say  all  this  for  what  you  tliink  is 
my  own  good.  But  I  believe  you  are  mistaken:  you  do 
not  know  my  husband.  Elsie  knows  him,  and  she  does 
not  think  this  of  him,  I  am  sure.  I  have  willingly  con- 
sented to  go  with  him  to  Utah,  and  in  return  he  has  prom- 
ised to  devote  his  life  to  me  and  my  happiness.  How  can 
I  thwart  the  most  cherished  desire  of  his  heart?  How  can 
I  ask  him  to  make  such  a  sacrifice  for  me,  and  be  unwilling 
to  make  any  for  him  ?  It  will  seem  like  disputing  his  faith- 
fulness to  me  to  ask  him  to  remain.  I  know  it  would 
break  my  heart  to  lose  his  confidence,  and  I  will  not 
deprive  him  of  mine.  Please,  dear  aunt,  do  not  look  at  it 
in  such  a  terrible  light.  I  feel  sure  my  life  will  not  be 
ruined,  but  I  look  forward  to  a  happy  home  of  our  own, 
whatever  our  surroundings  may  be." 

At  her  aunt's  recital  of  a  passage  in  Elder  Parker's  his- 
tory, Marion's  faith  had  failed  her  in  spite  of  herself,  and 
she  was  sick  at  heart  with  terrible  fear  and  apprehensions 
for  her  own  future.  Only  for  a  moment,  however,  for  her 
love  for  her  husband  conquered  every  doubt,  and  she  was 
again  the  confiding,  hopeful  wife.  Her  aunt  felt  how  ut- 
terly useless  it  was  to  entreat  her  further.  Elsie  had  lis- 
tened eagerly  to  the  conversation,  hoping  her  aunt's  argu- 


30  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

mcnts  wonld  be  effective.  Marion's  answer  was  so  decided, 
and  so  evidently  final,  that  her  aunt  and  sister  felt  that  there 
■was  no  more  to  be  said.  They  sat  in  silence  for  a  few  moments ; 
then  Mrs.  Wells  said  :  "  Why  are  we  wasting  our  time  here? 
I  came  to  bring  you  home  with  me,  and  you  will  go,  will 
you  not,  Marion,  if  only  for  a  few  hours  ?  " 

Marion  readily  assented,  and  soon  with  Elsie  was  en- 
joying the  beauties  and  comforts  of  their  aunt's  elegant 
home.  It  was  to  be  Elsie's  home,  but  Marion  did  not  covet 
it,  for  no  place,  however  beautiful,  could  be  home  to  her 
without  the  one  who  was  to  henceforth  share  her  joys  and 
sorrows.  Her  aunt  exerted  herself  to  give  her  niece  all  the 
pleasure  her  house,  with  its  books,  its  music,  its  flowers, 
and  its  beautiful  grounds,  could  afford,  in  this  her  first  visit 
in  the  new  world.  But  the  hours  soon  fled,  and  Mrs.  Wells 
sent  her  carriage  back  to  the  hotel  Avith  Elsie  and  Marion, 
saying,  "  During  your  stay  in  the  city,  Marion,  you  must 
come  and  see  us  every  day,  and  your  husband  also  shall  be 
welcome." 

At  the  hotel  Elder  Northfield  had  just  arrived,  and  was 
searching  for  Marion,  when  she  returned  and  explained  the 
cause  of  her  absence.  Elsie  noticed  the  fond  smile  as  he 
greeted  his  wife,  and  the  tenderness  with  which  he  wrapj  ed 
her  in  her  cloak  and  arrangCv^.  the  cushions  and  blankets  of 
the  carriage  with  the  utmost  care  for  her  comfort,  and  his 
devotion  inspired  her  with  hope  that  after  all,  Marion's  life 
might  be  an  exception  to  that  of  most  Mormon  women. 
Marion,  too,  now  seemed  to  have  forgotten  the  unpleasant- 
ness of  her  aunt's  first  conversation,  and  in  her  pleasure  at 
being  again  united  with  her  husband  after  a  few  hours'  sepa- 
ration she  did  not  notice  the  sadness  that  would  come  into 
Elsie's  voice  as  she  said,  "Good-bye,  darling;  come  and  see 
me  to-morrow." 

"  Yes,  Elsie,  if  I  can,"  she  replied,  and  she  left  her  sister, 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  31 

who  returned  to  her  aunt,  little  thinking  this  was  their  final 
parting. 

But  Marion  grew  very  thouglitful  as  the  events  of  the  day 
came  back  to  her,  as  she  thought  of  all  her  aunt's  words, 
and  she  could  not  repress  her  sadness  at  the  thought  of  tliat 
wronged  wife  suffering  in  Utah.  She  thought  of  the  bride 
Carrie,  who  was  to  be  taken  by  that  heartless  husband  as  a 
fresh  insult  to  the  miserable  woman  he  had  promised  to 
love  and  cherish  till  death  did  part.  She  remembered  the 
reverence  with  which  she  had  looked  up  to  him,  and  now 
her  soul  was  filled  with  contempt.  An  involuntary  sigh  es- 
caped her. 

"  Marion,"  said  her  husband,  "you  seem  thoughtful  and 
sad.  You  should  have  been  made  happy  by  a  visit  to  your 
aunt.  Has  anything  unpleasant  occurred?  What  have 
they  been  saying  to  you  to  make  you  look  so  gloomy  ?  " 

"Aunt  Wells  has  been  telling  me  a  sad  story  of  a  friend 
of  hers  who,  when  a  bride,  went  to  Utah." 

"  Is  that  the  way  in  which  she  entertained  you  ?  Really, 
I  think  she  might  have  shown  more  tact  and  chosen  some 
subject  more  pleasant  and  quite  as  appropriate  to  your  cir- 
cumstances. No  wonder  you  look  sad.  I  see.  She  is  one 
of  the  many  persecutors  our  faith  has,  and  has  chosen  to 
show  her  love  for  her  niece  by  attacking  her  religion.  I  do 
not—" 

"  0  !  Henry  !  She  would  never  persecute  any  one.  She 
is  so  good  and  kind  I  cannot  help  loving  her.  I  wish  you 
had  seen  her.  But  she  was  very  much  astonished — yes,  and 
even  shocked — to  learn  that  I  had  married  a  Mormon.  Of 
course,  it  made  me  very  angry  at  first  to  listen  to  her  attacks 
on  the  Mormon  elders,  and  I  could  not  answer  her  pleas- 
antly ;  but  when  she  told  me  what  she  knew  of  them,  and 
especially  of  her  friend  who  was  so  cruelly  treated — and, 
Henry,  let  me  tell  you,  this  friend  was  the  first  wife  of  Elder 


32  EI.DKR    NORTH FIP:I-1)'s    HOME;    OR, 

Parker,  and  now  lie  cruelly  neglects  her  and  leaves  her  to 
sufler  alone  and  support  her  two  children — when  she  told 
me  this  I  could  not  be  angry  with  her,  and  did  not  wonder 
at  her  prejudice  against  all  Mormons.  And,  indeed,  Henr}^ 
I  fear  there  are  many  bad  men  in  the  Church.  Aunt  Wells 
has  the  advantage  of  living  in  this  country  and  knowing 
more  of  the  native  Mormons  than  you  and  I  do." 

"  There  are  some  bad  men  in  every  church.  Even  among 
the  twelve  apostles  there  was  a  traitor;  but,  Marion,  you 
have  only  heard  one  side  of  Elder  Parker's  story.  I  have 
been  told  that  his  first  wife  has  caused  him  a  gregit  deal  of 
trouble,  and  has  been  so  rebellious  and  wicked  that  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  live  with  her.  His  other  two  wives 
live  together  most  harmoniously  and  are  quite  willing  he 
should  take  a  fourth.  I  see  no  motive  but  a  bad  one  in 
your  aunt  talking  to  you  in  the  way  she  has.  To  say 
notliing  of  the  insult  of  inviting  j^ou  to  her  house  and 
making  your  visit  unpleasant,  the  inference  from  her  words 
was  not  what  was  due  to  your  husband." 

"O,  she  meant  no  disrespect  to  you,  Henr}^,  and  wishes 
you  to  come  with  me  to  her  house  any  time." 

"Marion,  tell  me,  did  she  try  to  destroy  j'our  faith  in  me  ? 
Did  she  intimate  that  your  husband  would  ruin  his  wife's 
happiness  as  others  have  ?  Did  she  tell  you  I  would  break 
m}^  vow  to  my  wife?" 

"She  said  I  never  could  be  happy  in  Utah,  and  showed 
me  how  much  misery  there  was,  and  begged  me  to  persuade 
you  to  remain  here.  She  told  me  there  was  room  in  her 
home  and  a  welcome  for  us  all,  and  you  could  easily  find 
employment  or  business  in  the  cit}',  and  she  wanted  me  near 
her  and  Elsie." 

"  Marion,  you  have  not  answered  me !  Did  your  aunt  try 
to  make  you  believe  I  would  ever  take  another  wife?" 

Marion  was  frightened  at  the  anger  she  saw  in  those  deep, 
dark  eyes,  and  she  answered  : 


SACRIFICED  ON   THE   MORMON  ALTAR.  33 

"  She  said  no  doubt  you  wore  sincere  and  honorable  now, 
but  she  feared  3^ou  would  not  love  nio  so  much  when  I  am 
older  and  less  attractive,  and  that  it  would  be  almost  impos- 
sible for  you  to  withstand  the  commands  and  counsel  to 
marry." 

"And  you  allowed  her  to  talk  to  you  thus !  " 

"  0,  please  do  not  look  so  angry.  No !  I  did  not  allow  her, 
but  told  her  I  thought  she  did  very  wrong  to  talk  to  me  so, 
and  that  it  was  to  no  purpose,  for  I  would  not  even  ask  you 
to  give  up  going  to  Zion  when  I  knew  how  your  lienrt  was 
set  on  going,  and  I  assured  her  that  nothing  could  ever 
make  me  doubt  my  husband's  fidelity  to  me  alone.  She 
asked  my  forgiveness  for  having  offended  me,  and  I  could 
not  refuse  to  go  with  her,  as  she  seemed  so  disappointed  in 
losing  me.  She  said  no  more  on  the  subject,  and  made  my 
visit  a  very  agreeable  one -asking  me  to  come  every  day  to 
see  her  and  Elsie." 

The  anger  had  all  died  out  of  Elder  Northfield's  eye  as 
Marion  told  him  of  her  assurances  to  her  aunt  of  faith  in 
her  husband,  and  given  place  to  a  look  of  great  tenderness 
as  he  said : 

"  God  bless  my  darling  wife.  She  shall  never  regret  her 
trust  in  me." 

They  were  silent  a  few  moments ;  then  Elder  Northfield 
said : 

"Marion,  do  you  wish  to  go  to  your  aunt's  every  day 
while  we  are  in  New  York  ?  " 

"  I— I— think  I  should  like  to,  but  perhaps  I  had  better 
not." 

"  I  thought  when  you  were  telling  me  what  she  said  to 
you  we  would  neither  of  us  go  there,  but  you  shall  do  as 
you  please.  I  think,  however,  judging  from  this  first  visit, 
that  her  society  will  not  conduce  to  your  happiness,  and  the 
less  you  are  with  her  the  better.  Intercourse  with  Gentiles 
3 


34  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's    HOME;    OR, 

is  very  elTective  to  destroy  tlie  saints'  peace  of  mind,  for  they 
are  so  prejudiced  and  opposed  to  the  Mormons  that  they 
will  use  every  means  in  tlieir  power  against  them.  The 
elders  will  condemn  us  if  we  do  not  withdraw  from  the 
world.  Elsie,  I  think,  is  a  hindrance  to  you  in  the  exercise 
of  your  faith,  and  I  hope  when  we  are  safely  in  Zion,  away 
from  all  these  influences,  to  see  you  again  the  happy  enthu- 
siast you  once  were." 

"  Henry,  do  you  wish  me  to  keep  away  from  Elsie  and 
aunt  Wells?" 

"Not  altogether,  Marion.  It  would  be  cruel  to  deprive 
you  of  your  sister's  society  entirely.  I  w^ill  not  ask  that 
sacrifice;  but  you  know  my  views  in  regard  to  the  matter, 
and  I  believe  it  is  for  your  good  to  avoid  them  as  much 
as  you  can,  but  let  your  own  heart  dictate  to  you,  my  dear. 
I  want  you  to  be  happy.  It  is  for  you  to  decide  what  will 
most  conduce  to  your  happiness  in  the  end." 

But  Marion  was  spared  the  trial  of  holding  herself  aloof 
from  her  aunt  and  sister  or  disregarding  her  husband's 
wishes.  Her  course  was  decided  for  her,  and  she  had  no 
choice  but  to  acquiesce  in  the  decision. 

Henry  Northfield,  though  not  a  man  of  abundant  means, 
was  not  as  poor  as  many  of  the  emigrants  were.  He  had 
given  liberally,  according  to  his  means,  for  the  benefit  of  the 
Church  and  assistance  of  the  poorer  emigrants,  but  had  not, 
like  many  in  his  circumstances,  given  his  all.  In  this  he 
had  been  slightly  censured  by  the  higher  authorities  of  tlie 
Church,  and  accused  of  a  lack  of  faith,  but  still  he  prudently 
withheld  something  for  the  future  wants  of  himself  and  wife. 
Thus  he  had  been  able  to  emigrate  with  the  other  elders  and 
a  few  of  their  converts  at  his  own  expense,  independent  of 
the  emigration  fund,  and  with  much  less  discomfort  and 
privation  than  usually  fell  to  the  lot  of  Mormon  emigrants. 
Their  journey  from  New  York  to  Utah,  however,  was  to  be 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  35 

postponed  till  the  arrival  of  the  next  emigrant  vessel,  and 
made  in  company  with  the  poorer  en)igrants.  But  the  dis- 
pensations and  revelations  of  the  Mormon  Church  are  sub- 
ject to  many  sudden  changes,  which  would  seem  very 
human  were  they  not  so  positively  divine.  A  message  was 
received  that  night  from  Brigham  Young  directing  the 
Mormons  who  might  be  in  the  city  on  their  way  to  Zion  not 
to  tarry,  but  to  gather  immediately  to  Zion  without  any 
delay. 

Marion  had  not  accompanied  her  husband  to  the  meeting 
that  evening,  but  had  remained  at  her  room,  arranging  for 
her  temporary  stay  in  the  city.  It  "was  late  before  he  re- 
turned, and  she  would  have  been  lonely,  but  slie  had  that 
day  made  the  acquaintance  of  Carrie,  Elder  Parker's  bride, 
and  now  was  being  entertained  by  the  latter,  who  had  also 
remained  at  her  boarding-place  while  Elder  Parker  attended 
the  meeting.  She  had  come  into  Marion's  room  to  chat 
with  her.  Marion  grew  quite  interested  in  Carrie,  who  was 
gratifying  her  curiosity  and  interest  by  being  very  commu- 
nicative in  regard  to  her  circumstances  and  expectations. 
Carrie  seemed  quite  resigned  to  being  the  fourth  wife,  for  she 
said  she  was  not  fourth  in  her  husband's  affections,  but  was, 
he  had  told  her,  the  first  and  only  one  he  had  ever  really 
loved.  She  was  not  aware  that  each  of  his  previous  wives 
had  received  the  same  assurance  and  been  made  to  believe 
it.  As  for  his  other  wives,  she  should  not  have  the  least 
jealousy  for  them — poor  things — but  should  be  very  kind 
and  indulgent  to  them,  though  she  should  take  care  that 
they  understood  her  position  with  relation  to  them,  as  Elder 
Parker  had  decided  that  she  was  to  be  mistress  of  the  house. 
There  were  three  children  belonging  to  the  two  wives,  but 
she  did  not  care  for  that,  as  she  liked  children,  and  presumed 
they  were  very  attractive.  She  knew  she  should  love  them, 
for  they  were  her  dear  husband's  children.     She  expected  to 


36  ELDER    XORTIIEIEED's    HOME;    OR, 

take  life  cnsy,  for,  of  course,  the  other  wives  vrould  not  ex- 
pect much  of  lier  in  the  domestic  line,  ns  she  was  so  young, 
and  her  time  wouhl  he  so  entirely  devoted  to  her  hushand. 
She  had  sacrificed  all  for  Mormonism  and  Elder  Parker,  in- 
cludinp^  father,  motlier,  hrother  and  sisters,  much  against 
their  wislies,  hut  tliesc  separations  were  as  nothing  when 
weighed  in  tlie  balance  of  duty  and  religion.  In  short, 
Carrie  was  quite  as  contented  and  self-satisfied  a  person  as 
one  might  wish  to  meet  with.  Marion  wondered  at  her 
tranquil  frame  of  mind,  but  could  not  but  admit  that,  as  her 
husband  had  intimated,  she  was  the  wiser  of  the  two,  and 
that  it  was  well  to  believe  that  what  must  be,  was  what  one 
desired  should  be. 

Elder  Northfield  returned  to  a  very  cheerful  wife  late  in 
the  evening,  and  was  quite  prepared  to  sympathize  with  her 
mood,  as  he  joyfully  told  her  of  the  word  of  command  from 
the  head  of  the  Church,  and  that  they  were  to  resume  their 
journey  towards  Zion  by  daybreak  the  next  morning.  It 
liad  not  occurred  to  Elder  Northfield  in  his  preoccupation 
that  to  Marion  this  would  be  the  most  unwelcome  news — 
that  it  meant  final  separation  from  her  loved  sister  and  a 
closer  contact  with  a  system  from  which,  in  its  best  phase, 
she  shrunk.  He  did  not  realize  how  utterly  bereft  of  enthu- 
siasm Marion  was  in  the  religion  which  had  once  been  so 
dear  to  her.  He  could  not  know  the  repugnance  which  a 
womau  felt  towards  coming  in  close  contact  with  what  she 
felt  to  be  a  great  wrong  to  her  sex.  His  devotion  to  his  re- 
ligion and  desire  to  gather  to  Zion  were  so  great  that  all  obsta- 
cles in  the  way  were  completely  lost  sight  of,  and  he  could 
not  sympathize  with  her  in  her  grief,  as  it  seemed  that 
so  suddenly  cutting  all  the  tics  that  bound  her  to  her  former 
life  was  like  the  cutting  of  her  heart-strings.  And  worst  of 
all,  it  was  impossible  for  her  to  see  Elsie  again.  Had  she 
only  known  sooner  she  might  have  spent  that  evening  in  a 


SACRIFICED    ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  37 

last  visit  with  her  sister.  0,  how  could  she  part  with  Elsie 
with  no  farewell  word!  How  could  she  leave  her  so  soon, 
perhaps  forever !  Why  must  they  he  constantly  controlled 
in  every  movement  by  the  Mormon  authorities!  Rebellion 
was  working  in  Marion's  heart,  and  all  her  husband's  sym- 
pathy and  kindness  could  not  lift  her  load  of  sorrow.  Her 
hope  in  the  future  forsook  her  for  the  time,  and  all  looked 
dark.  But  she  bravely  tried  to  cast  her  sorrow  from  her  for 
her  husband's  sake,  and  set  about  undoing  the  Avork  of  the 
evening  and  preparing  for  her  journey. 

The  next  morning  Elsie,  leisurely  sipping  her  coffee  in 
her  aunt's  pleasant  breakfast  room,  received  the  following 
letter : 

"  My  Dear  Sister  :— I  pity  you  for  the  sorrow  and  grief 
you  will  feel  when  you  read  this  letter,  and  realize  that 
Marion  is  gone — when  I  tell  you  that  as  you  read  I  shall 
be  journeying  fast  on  my  way  to  Salt  Lake  City.  O, 
Elsie!  Elsie!  Would  that  this  night,  instead  of  writing 
to  you,  I  might  have  your  arms  twined  lovingly  once 
more  about  me,  that  I  might  lay  my  cheek  against  yours, 
and  be  comforted  in  my  trouble  as  I  have  so  often  been. 
To  leave  you  without  a  vrord,  without  one  farewell  kiss, 
seems  cruel  to  us  both.  I  had  hoped  for  so  much  pleasure 
with  you  and  aunt  Wells  before  I  left  you!  I  thought 
that  not  quite  yet  must  the  saddest  side  of  Mormonism  be 
thrust  upon  me— a  little  while  longer  I  might  be  in  the 
world  if  not  of  it,  and  enjoy  something  of  its  pleasures.  For 
I  must  admit,  Elsie,  that  the  world  gives  me  more  pleasure 
now  than  my  religion  does.  You  remember  that  on  the 
evening  before  we  left  England,  you  expressed  your  fear 
that  my  religion  alone  would  not  always  give  me  the  peace 
I  then  enjoyed.  Little  did  I  then  think  how  soon  your  fear 
would  become  a  reality.     Now  there  is  little  m  it  that  seems 


38  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's    HOME  J   OR, 

attractive.     O,   that   I   might   have   the   unwavering    faith 
that  I  once  had,  and  this  trial  of  leaving  you  would  not 
seem  so  great.     Still  I  have  no  doubt  that  I  shall  recover  my 
usual  spirits  soon.     I  have  been  trying  to  hide  my  feelings 
from  Henry,  as  he  seems  so  troubled  and  sorry  for  me, 
though  before  he  realized  how  I  would  take  it,  he  was  very 
much  delighted  that  we  could  so  soon  proceed  to  Zion.     He 
only  learned  of  the  change  in  the  plan  to-night  at  the  meet- 
ing, and  returned  very  late — too  late  for  me  to  go  to  you ; 
and  besides  there  was  no  time,  for  we  had  immediately  to 
repack  all  our  goods  preparatory  to  an  early  start.     I  can 
only  write  you  a  farewell,  Elsie,  in  the  small  hours  of  the 
morning,  and  it  must  be  brief,  for  Henry  insists  that  I  shall 
try  to  get  some  sleep  before  I  start.     De:ir  aunt  Wells !     Tell 
her  how  I  regret  that  I  can  see  no  more  of  her.     Ask  her  to 
forget  and  forgive  the  resentment  I  showed  in  return  for 
her  kind  interest  in  me.     Assure  her   of  my  thankfulness 
that  my  sister  has  found  so  good  a  friend  and  protector  in 
her,  and  do  not  either  of  you  let  your  hearts  be  troubled  for 
my  future.     Sad  though  I  am  at  leaving  you,  and  dreading 
to  come  face  to  face  with  polygamy,  yet  I  have  no  apprehen- 
sions of  evil  coming  across  my  own  pathway,  and  I  leave 
you,  Elsie,  with  confidence  that  when  the  present  trial  is 
over,  and  we  are  finally  established  in  a  home  of  our  own, 
I  shall  be  again   the  cheerful  Marion   who   left   dear  old 
England  with  you.     And  now  I  must  stop  writing.     How 
can  I  say  farewf^il !     I  leave  you,  Elsie,  now,  not  as  I  once 
thought  I  slioukl,  for  my  religion's  sake,  but  for  my  hus- 
band's.    And  with  him  I  cannot  be  unhappy,  I  feel  sure.    I 
know  in  the  future  you  will  not  forget  me,  and  sometimes 
perhaps  we  may  be  permitted  to  write  to  each  other.     God 
IdIcps  you,  and  grant  that  we  may  meet  again,  if  not  in  this 
world,  in  the  eternal  world  never  to  part. 

"Marion." 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  39 

Elsie  read  this  letter ;  then  without  a  word,  but  with  a 
face  showing  the  intensity  of  her  emotions,  she  placed  it  in 
her  aunt's  hands,  and  repaired  to  her  own  room,  there  to 
calm  her  sorrow,  and  struggle  with  her  hatred  of  a  religion 
which  had  bereft  her  of  her  dearest  friend. 


40  ELDER  NORTHFIELD'S   HOME  ;   OR, 


CHAPTER  III. 

EMIGRATION  to  the  west  in  those  days  was  not  the 
easy  matter  it  is  to-day,  for  only  a  part  of  the  jour- 
ney could  then  be  performed  by  rail.  Instead  of  crossing  the 
plains  with  the  rapidity  and  comfort  that  the  introduction 
of  the  great  Pacific  Railway  gives,  the  emigrants  slowly 
travelled  with  ox-teams,  advancing  as  far  as  might  be  by 
day,  and  pitching  their  tents  and  camping  out  for  the  night. 
There  was  much  of  hardship,  privation  and  weariness  in 
even  the  most  well  provided  of  companies,  of  which  the 
little  band  of  Mormons  now  gathering  to  Zion  was  one.  But 
of  the  sufferings  from  cold,  hunger  and  overpowering 
fatigue,  of  the  deaths  from  exposure,  from  sickness,  and 
from  the  wolves  whicli  attacked  the  larger  and  poorer  emi- 
grant parties,  they  knew  comparatively  nothing.  There 
was  much  in  the  novel  method  of  travelling  that  exhila- 
rated and  interested  Marion  at  first,  and  all  were  so  cheerful 
and  jovial  and  seemed  so  happy  in  the  thought  that  tliey 
were  "a  day's  march  nearer  home,"  as  they  sung  in  their 
meetings  by  the  way,  that  she  caught  the  infection,  and 
much  to  the  joy  of  her  husband  began  to  look  upon  her 
new  life  with  much  less  of  her  late  discontent,  and  som>e- 
tliing  of  her  old  belief  in  the  faith  v.'as  revived  as  she  ear- 
nestly desired  and  sought  that  it  might  be.  What  one 
wishes  to  believe  one  will  more  readily  believe,  and  i\Iarion 
wished  to  believe  in  Mormonism.  Elder  Northfield  con- 
gratulated himself  that  complete  isolation  from  Gentil3 
companionship,  and  a  strong  Mormon  influence  v/crc  doing 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  41 

their  work  as  he  had  predicted.  And  he  looked  forward  to 
a  time  when  Marion  would  be  filled  with  the  same  zeal 
and  love  for  her  religion  that  characterized  her  in  the  days 
of  lier  conversion  to  Mormonisni.     That  time  never  came. 

Day  after  day  and  week  after  week  passed,  and  the  mo- 
notony of  the  journey  increased.  The  women  and  children 
grew  very  weary,  and  the  longing  to  arrive  at  their  destina- 
tion grew  intense.  The  men  strove  to  make  them  as  com- 
fortable as  might  be,  and  tried  to  cheer  them  by  songs  and 
prayers,  and  assurances  of  the  happiness  in  store  for  them 
just  a  little  ahead  in  Zion.  The  heat  of  summer  had  now 
arrived,  and  in  the  burning  sun  they  slowly  advanced  across 
the  prairies.  At  last  the  end  of  the  journey  came,  and  as 
the  sun  was  slowly  sinking  in  the  west,  the  travellers  came 
in  sight  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake  valley.  Here  before  them  in 
all  its  verdure  lay  the  haven  they  had  sought.  In  the  dis- 
tance, like  a  silvery  sheet,  lay  the  beautiful  Salt  Lake.  And 
down  in  the  valley,  now  shrouded  in  gloom  from  the  ever- 
lasting hills  surrounding  it,  lay  the  Zion  of  their  hopes. 
Marion  did  not  wonder  that  with  their  belief  the  Mormons 
called  this  place  the  "  chamber  of  the  Lord  in  the  moun- 
tains," for  it  did  seem  like  a  chamber  or  room,  so  shut  in 
was  it  from  the  rest  of  the  world.  As  she  stood  by  her  hus- 
band's side,  gazing  with  him  at  the  promised  land,  now  just 
before  them,  she  felt  that,  after  all,  her  reluctance  and  dread 
of  entering  this  city  had  perhaps  been  entirely  unreasonable. 
Certainly  there  was  nothing  in  the  sight  before  them  to  inspire 
one  with  dread.  On  the  contrary,  everything  had  a  very 
peaceful  look,  as  the  elders  had  always  represented.  As  for 
her  husband, he  took  Marion's  hand  tightly  in  his  and  gazed 
with  all  the  delight  and  satisfaction  that  the  full  realization 
of  his  long  cherished  hope  could  give  him. 

"Marion,"  said  he,  reverently,  "thank  God  that  at  last  wo 
beheld  this  beautiful  place,  and  may  we  go  no  more  out  of 
it  forever." 


42  ELDER   NOKTHFIELD's   HOME;    OR, 

Suddenly  a  change  came  over  Marion.  She  withdrew  her 
hand  from  liis. 

"No!"  she  exclaimed,  excitcdl}',  "do  not  say  so!  "as  at 
that  moment  they  saw  Elder  Parker  advancing  towards 
them. 

"Marion,  tell  me,"  said  her  husband,  "what  do  you 
mean  ?  " 

"  Five  minutes  ago  this  place  looked  to  me  like  the  abode 
of  peace.  Now,  as  I  look  down  there,  it  seems  to  me  I  see 
sorrow  and  misery  on  the  faces  in  those  homes.  I  do  not 
wish  to  stay  here  forever,  Henry,  and  the  sight  of  Elder 
Parker  often  fills  me  with  the  strajigest  of  gloomy  feelings." 

"  Then  we  will  not  see  him.  We  will  walk  directly  on  to 
the  wagons." 

And  they  did  so ;  for  as  it  was  impossible  to  find  homes 
for  themselves  that  night,  the  party  had  decided  to  camp 
where  they  were,  and  early  in  the  morning  descend  into  the 
city. 

In  those  days  the  city  was  not  composed  of  well-built 
houses,  but  principally  of  small  low  buildings  of  wood  or 
even  logs.  It  was,  however,  beautifully  laid  out,  with  wide 
streets  and  walks,  and  streams  of  water  from  the  mountains 
were  running  through  the  streets.  Small  trees  were  extend- 
ing their  branches,  and  giving  promise  of  beautiful  shade  in 
future  years.  Every  spot  of  land  seemed  to  be  in  the  highest 
state  of  cultivation. 

As  Marion  descended  into  the  valley  and  entered  the  city 
the  next  morning  with  her  husband,  she  noticed  all  these 
things.  Nothing  escaped  her.  This  was  to  be  her  home — 
probably  for  life.  She  was  now  in  the  Zion  for  which  she 
had  so  joyfully  left  her  native  country.  She  thought  of  the 
day  she  bid  farewell  to  all  that  had  been  dear  to  her  in 
England  (save  her  sister),  and  was  impressed  with  the 
change  that  had  come  over  her  since  that  time.    She  felt  the 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  43 

contrast  between  the  joji'iil  anticipations  of  that  time,  and 
the  gloominess  of  their  realization.  She  thought  of  tlie  sys- 
tem the  knowledge  of  which  had  taken  away  all  the  pleasure 
of  her  religion,  all  the  brightness  there  had  once  seemed  to 
be  in  it,  and  destroyed  her  faith  in  everything  pertaining  to 
the  doctrines  of  the  Latter-Day  Saints.  She  shrank  from  a 
more  familiar  knowledge  of  its  workings,  and  weary  and 
worn-out  with  her  journey  though  she  was,  the  prospect  of 
rest  did  not  dispel  the  sadness  from  her  heart.  But  work 
for  the  mind  and  body  are  excellent  remedies  for  mental 
depression,  and  Marion  found  plenty  of  work  awaiting  her, 
A  house  had  to  be  secured,  which  was, very  difficult,  for 
each  man  built  his  own,  and  seldom  had  any  one  a  house  to 
let.  Toward  nightfall,  however,  Elder  Northfield  succeeded 
in  obtaining  the  use  of  a  small  log  house  towards  the  out- 
skirts of  the  city.  It  was  not  a  very  attractive  place  in 
itself,  but  the  wearied  emigrants  approached  and  entered  it 
with  thankfulness  that  even  such  a  shelter  might  be  theirs. 
They  gathered  to  the  spot  all  they  had  been  able  to  bring 
with  them,  and  what  they  could  there  obtain  with  the  now 
faiUng  resources  of  their  pocket  book,  for  the  furnishing  of 
their  home.  And  although  used  to  better  surroundings, 
Marion  experienced  the  same  pleasure  all  young  house- 
keepers feel  in  arranging  their  first  home.  She  cheerfully 
made  the  best  of  everything,  and  exerted  her  feminine  in- 
genuity in  supplying  many  a  deficiency  and  concealing  the 
roughness  of  both  house  and  furniture.  When  all  was  done, 
she  was  pleased  with  her  success,  and  looked  to  her  husband 
for  the  approving  smile,  which  he  did  not  fail  to  give,  say- 
ing, "Marion,  humble  though  this  all  is,  we  can  be  happy 
here."  And  Marion  in  her  heart  could  at  that  moment  echo 
the  words. 

Early  the  next  morning  Elder  Northfield  set  out  to  look 
about  the  city  for  employment,  and  Marion  busied  herself 


44  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's    HOME;    OR, 

pleasantly  about  her  domestic  duties.  It  was  nearly  noon 
Avlien  she  heard  a  knock  at  the  half-open  door,  and  ap- 
proachinoj  her  visitor  she  found  him  to  be  a  small  boy  who 
liad  evidently  made  an  attempt  to  array  himself  in  a  proper 
visiting  toilet.  His  straw  hat,  which  was  minus  the  rear 
portion  of  the  brim,  had  been  carefully  cut  around  the  edge, 
thereby  alleviating  in  a  degree  its  ragged  appearance.  His 
hair,  too,  had  evidently  undergone  the  clipping  process  re- 
cently, and  that,  too,  by  unskilled  hands,  judging  from  the 
lack  of  uniformity  in  its  length.  The  eyes  were  gray,  and 
the  fLice,  which  had  been  made  to  shine  with  soap  and 
water,  was  rather  a  prepossessing  one.  A  respectable  jacket, 
evidently  a  borrowed  one,  from  its  size  and  the  length  of  the 
Rlceves,  was  buttoned  around  the  boy.  Of  the  pantaloons 
not  much  could  be  said,  for  there  was  but  little  of  them  vis- 
ible, but  beneath  their  ragged  extremities  were  feet  which, 
though  bare,  were  comparatively  clean.  The  hands  were 
also  clean,  and  Mrs.  Northfield  considered  him  quite  an  in- 
teresting person,  especially  after  he  politely  removed  his  hat 
and  proved  that  his  conversational  powers  were  equal  to  the 
occasion,  without  requiring  much  assistance  from  her.  He 
was  familiar  with  the  place  and  its  former  occupants,  with 
her  neighbors,  and  much  that  was  transpiring  about  town, 
and  entertained  his  hostess  with  his  information  till  she 
began  to  weary  of  him.  He  had  told  her  his  name  was 
Johnnie  Mordaunt.     At  last  Marion  said: 

"Well,  Johnnie,  don't  you  think  your  mother  vrill  want 
you  at  home  by  this  time?  " 

"0,  no;  she  will  not  miss  me,  there's  so  many  others." 

"  How  many  are  tlicre?  " 

"Well,  only  sixteen  now,  since  Juba  got  married  and 
Willie  and  Tommie  died  of  scarlet  fever;  but  you  see  there's 
four  or  five  of  us  fellows  all  just  about  of  a  size,  and  it  makes 
it  mighty  handy  when  one  of  us  wants  a  vacation,  as  I  did 
this  mornin'." 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  45 

''Sixteen  children  !  Do  they  all  belonp;  to  one  mother?" 
"  Why,  bless  you,  no!  There's  four  of  'em.  Tliere's  Sarah 
— I  belongs  to  lier,  and  six  others  are  hern.  Mnrtha  she's 
got  four;  Jemima  three — darn  'em,  we  fellers  can't  have  a 
thing  that  they  won't  smash — and  Mary  Ann  has  two  little 
squalling  things.  We  fellers,  you  see,  aint  l)ig  enough  to 
work,  so  the  women  set  us  to  tendin'  their  babies.  There's 
fiye  of  'em  haye  to  be  run  after,  kept  out  of  the  molasses-jug 
and  the  pig-pen,  and  rocked  to  sleep  by  us  boys;  and  I'm 
hayin'  the  worst  of  it,  'cause,  somehow  or  other — I  don't 
know  how — the  young  ones  all  take  to  me  lately,  and  act 
afraid  of  t'other  boys.  I  dispect  'em  of  doin'  somethin'  on 
the  sly  to  make  'em  'fraid  of  'em.  I  remember  I  did  once, 
but  I  never  would  ag'in,  if  I  was  goin'  back  thar.  It's  too 
mean." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  saying  '  If  you  were  going  back 
there?'" 

"Now  you's  hit  it,  and  I'll  tell  you.  This  morning  I 
dressed  the  twins — they're  Martha's — pulled  Sammy — he's 
ours — out  of  the  swill-pail  and  cleaned  him  up ;  heard  Mollie 
crying  and  found  her  with  lier  finger  shut  under  the  window 
and  a  pan  of  milk  spilt  over  her:  got  dad's  watch  away  from 
Jerry  (Jerry  he's  Jemima's  boy)  and  then  started  on  a  run 
after  Willie  and  Pete  down  to  the  brook.  My  ma  and  the 
others'  mas  came  out  and  scolded  me  for  letting  the  children 
go,  and  they  say  I  sassed  'em.  I  told  'em  I  wouldn't  take 
care  of  children  any  more,  and  they  said  if  I  wouldn't  I'd 
have  to  get  another  home.  So  I  thouglit  maybe  I'd  find 
some  of  these  emigrant  folks  that  would  like  a  boy  like  me 
and  that  is  what  I's  been  up  to  this  mornin'." 

"  Have  you  called  on  any  of  the  other  emigrants?" 
"La!  yes.     One  man  told  me  I  was  a  naughty  boy  and  I 
must  run  home  to  my  mother.     At  another  place  the  woman 
said, '  What  a  horrible  looking  child,'  and  I  didn't  stop  to 


46  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;    OR, 

talk  with  her.  At  another,  the  woman  took  quite  a  fancy 
to  me,  for  I  told  her  all  my  troubles,  and  I  was  a  goin'  to 
stay  with  her,  but  first  I  knew  in  come  two  or  three  children  ; 
then  their  noise  set  a  bab}^  to  screaming  somewhere  in  the 
house  and  I  thought  I'd  better  get  out  of  there.  Then  I 
come  here,  and  I've  been  here  long  enough  to  see  your 
children,  if  you  had  any,  and  I  seem  to  like  here  pretty 
well,  so  if  you'd  like  to  have  me  I'll  stay  and  be  your  boy. 
My  folks  can  spare  me  out  of  sixteen,  when  you  haint  got 
an}',  and  I'll  be  a  fust-rate  boy.  I  can  do  any  kind  of  work, 
and  like  all  kinds,  but  minding  children." 

Here  the  boy  paused,  more  from  lack  of  breath  to  pro- 
ceed than  from  any  other  cause.  Marion  really  pitied  him 
in  his  struggle  for  freedom.  He  seemed  confident  that  he 
would  be  appreciated,  and  apparently  thought  this  child- 
less home  would  be  benefited  by  his  adoption.  Marion 
quite  disliked  to  undeceive  him.  She  explained  to  him  that, 
although  she  should  no  doubt  like  him  very  much,  their 
circumstances  were  such  that  they  could  not  do  more  than 
support  themselves  at  present,  and  that  she  really  did  not 
need  help,  as  her  labors  were  not  hard. 

Johnnie  looked  very  much  disappointed  and  surprised, 
but  was  comforted  by  an  invitation  to  remain  to  dinner, 
wdiich  he  accepted,  and  soon  proved  that  his  troubles  had 
not  destroyed  his  appetite.  He  left  Elder  Northfield's  house 
after  dinner  rather  discouraged  in  his  attempts  at  finding  a 
new  home  and  somewhat  inclined  to  follow  the  advice  he 
there  received  to  return  to  his  home  and  family  cares. 

In  the  afternoon  another  caller  made  an  appearance.  This 
time  it  was  a  little  girl,  plainly  but  neatly  clad,  with  a  very 
sober,  pinched  face,.^which  would  have  been  pretty  had  not 
sorrow,  so  painful  to  see  in  the  young,  been  written  there. 
She  modestly  explained  that  her  name  was  Ella  Atwood, 
and  that  she  lived  in  the  next  cottage.     Her  mother  had 


SACRIFICED    ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  47 

sent  her  to  ask  if  she  could  be  of  any  service  to  her  new 
neighbors,  and  would  luive  come  herself,  but  Nettie  was 
very  poorly  that  day  and  she  could  not  leave  her.  She 
would  be  glad  if  Mrs.  Northfield  would  call  upon  her  soon. 
Mrs.  Northfield  promised  to  call,  and  inquired  who  Nettie 
was. 

"  Oh,"  said  Ella,  "she  is  my  sister,  and  she  is  going  to  die. 
She  was  married  two  years  ago — and  I  remember  how  much 
William  loved  her,  and  how  good  he  was  to  her ;  but  now 
he  has  taken  another  wife  and  has  treated  Nettie  very 
cruelly.  The  elders  called  her  a  rebellious  wife  and  coun- 
selled William  to  leave  her.  The  doctor  says  she  has  the 
consumption,  but  mother  says  Nettie  is  dying  of  a  broken 
heart.  Mother  has  tried  to  have  William  come  and  see  her, 
and  he  has  promised  to  come,  but  Nettie  says  he  will  not 
come  till  too  late." 

"  Has  your  father  more  than  one  wife  ?  "  Marion  could  not 
help  asking. 

"Yes;  Hither  has  two  wives;  but  he  is  kind  to  us  all, 
though  mother  has  not  been  the  same  since  his  other  wife 
came.  She  never  sings  now,  and  so  often  says  to  me, '  My  poor 
little  Ella.'  I  wonder  at  that,  for  father's  other  wife  never 
troubles  me  any,  only  as  I  see  mother  is  more  unhappy  when 
she  is  near.  Mother  never  goes  to  walk  now  with  father, 
because  she  does  not  like  to  go  with  his  other  wife.  They 
do  not  seem  to  like  each  other,  but  now  she  has  been  very 
kind  to  Nettie,  and  I  think  mother  likes  her  better." 

"  Have  you  a  brother  or  sister  besides  Nettie?  " 

"  No,  ma'am ;  no  real  brother  or  sister  since  Neddie  died. 
He  was  my  baby  brother;  but  now  the  other  wife  has  a 
baby,  and  I  play  with  him  a  great  deal.  He  is  very  fond  of 
me,  but  mother  does  not  seem  to  love  him  at  all.  I  thought 
she  would  after  Neddie  died,  but  she  never  pets  him.  She 
is  willing  I  should,  though,  and  I'll  bring  him  some  time  to 
see  you  if  you  would  like  me  to." 


4.S  ELDER   KORTIIFIELD's    HOME  ;    OP., 

Marion  assured  the  child  tliat  slic  would  like  to  sec  the 
baby — "  fatiier's  other  ^vi!■e's  baby  " — and  Ella  soon  departed. 

That  night  Marion  and  her  husban<l  had  much  to  say  to 
each  other  of  the  events  of  their  first  day  of  life  in  tlieir  new 
home.  Elder  NorthfieJd  had  found  it  more  difficult  to  ob- 
tain employment,  with  comfortable  wages,  than  in  England, 
and  had  been  obliged  to  accept  an  engagement  which  jirom- 
ised  hard  work  and  but  a  small  income.  Marion,  however, 
felt  thankful  for  even  that,  and  told  her  husband  that  if 
their  income  w^as  small  their  expenses  were  also  in  the  same 
proportion. 

He  was  not  in  the  best  of  spirits,  for  in  his  intercourse  with 
the  native  brethren  he  had  missed  the  warm,  brotherly  feel- 
ing that  characterized  tlie  saints  in  En-land.  Religion,  too, 
which  he  had  expected  to  find  engrossing  almost  the  entire 
thoughts  of  the  people  in  the  city — the  great  centre  of  Mor- 
monism,  and  the  place  chosen  by  God  for  the  revelation  of 
his  will  towards  men — was  certainly  not  the  subject  first  in 
the  minds  of  the  people.  Marion,  too,  was  not  at  all  reas- 
sured by  what  she  had  learned  in  one  day  of  the  effects  of 
polygamy.  Little  Ella's  call  had  left  a  gloomy  impression 
on  her  mind,  which  she  could  not  shake  off. 

One  day  soon  after  this,  as  Marion  seated  herself  by  the 
only  window  which  looked  toward  tlie  centre  of  the  cit}^ 
she  saw  a  small  i)roce3sion  coming  down  the  walk,  consist- 
ing of — first,  a  woman,  drawing  a  clumsily-made  little  cart, 
containing  a  baby;  next,  two  other  women,  very  similarly 
dressed,  and  last,  a  woman,  leading  a  very  small  boy.  They 
proved  to  be  on  their  way  to  her  house  to  call  upon  the 
newly-arrived  elder's  wife.  Among  the  I\Iormon  women  the 
emigrants  from  time  to  time  arriving  in  the  city  were  objects 
of  much  interest.  Friendly  calls  upon  them  were  imme- 
diately in  order  by  these  fortunate  females,  whose  domestic 
cares  did  not  make  this  impossible,  or  whose  hearts  were 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  49 

not  too  full  of  their  own  sorrows  and  troubles  to  seek  out 
others.  Marion's  callers  belonged  to  this  class,  and  as  they 
approached,  cheerfully  chatting  together,  she  thought "  surely 
these  are  not  women  whose  lives  have  been  associated  with 
polygamy."  But  to  her  surprise,  as  they  entered  and  the 
leading  one  introduced  herself  as  "  Mrs.  Smith,"  she  turned 
and  said:  "This  is  the  second  Mrs.  Smith,  Ellen  we  call 
her,  this  is  the  third,  Josephine,  and  this  is  Mrs.  Ruth 
Smith,  the  fourth  wife  of  our  husband." 

Whatever  embarrassment  Marion  would  otherwise  have 
felt  in  confronting  together  the  four  wives  of  one  man,  the 
perfect  composure  of  the  speaker  put  and  kept  her  at  her 
ease.  The  other  wives  joined  the  first  in  conversation,  and 
all  were  very  sociable.  The  baby  and  small  boy  came  in  for 
their  share  of  attention,  the  baby's  mother,  Mrs.  Josephine, 
dwelling  particularly  on  its  attractions.  At  length  one  of 
her  visitors  asked  Marion  where  the  other  wives  were,  or  was 
she  the  only  one  yet  ?  Marion  could  scarcely  conceal  her  re- 
pugnance at  the  thought,  as  she  replied,  "  Yes,  I  am  the 
only"  wife,  and  expect  I  always  shall  be.  My  husband, 
though  a  I\Iormon,  is  not  a  polygamist,  and  never  will 
be." 

"  Indeed  !  Indeed  1  But  I  think  you  are  mistaken,  Sister 
Northfield.  If  he  is  a  Mormon,  he  is,  or  will  be,  a  polyga- 
mist." "  You  surprise  me,"  said  another ;  "  how  can  you 
know  what  your  husband  will  be?"  "I  fear  you  are  not 
rooted  and  grounded  in  the  faith,"  said  a  third,  and  the 
fourth  approached  her,  and  sitting  down  by  her  said  :  "  My 
dear  sister,  I  once  thought,  as  you  do,  that  my  husband  would 
never  marry  another,  and  I  did  not  wish  him  to,  but  here 
we  are,  four  living  testimonies  to  my  mistake,  and  I  have 
learned  better  than  to  wish  it  otherwise." 

"  But  how  can  women  live  together  as  the  wives  of  one 
mail  with  anything  but  hatred  for  him  and  each  other? 
4 


50  ELDER   NORTH  field's    HOME  ;    OR, 

Excuse  me  for  asking,  but  you  all  seem  to  be  very  friendly, 
and  I  confess  it  is  a  puzzle  to  me." 

"  Yes,  I  see  it  is,  and  that  is  not  strange.  We  should  re- 
member that  it  is  something  the  Gentiles  are  quite  unused 
to.     And  I  have  heard  that  you  were  brought  up  a  Gentile." 

"Yes;  I  have  been  a  Mormon  only  a  few  months." 

"  0,  well,  you  will  soon  understand  why  we  are  so  con- 
tented in  this  way  of  living.  It  is  part  of  our  religion.  We 
know  it  is  right,  and  the  more  we  advance  our  husband's 
interests  and  kingdom  the  higher  place  we  shall  have  in 
heaven.  Women  should  be  perfectly  submissive  to  their 
husbands  and  to  the  commands  of  their  ciders.  Not  that 
any  of  us  have  always  been  as  resigned  as  we  are  now — and, 
to  tell  the  truth,  we  never  have  lived  entirely  harmonious 
until  lately.  Indeed,  Ellen  and  I  used  to  almost  hate  each 
other;  didn't  we,  Ellen?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Ellen,  "but  we  have  overcome  that  and 
are  now  very  friendly.  We  both  were  very  much  opposed 
to  Josephine,  and  Ruth,  too,  and  altogether  we  four  made 
each  other  and  our  husband  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  and  I 
don't  mind  telling  you  that  we  were  censured  by  Brother 
Brigham  as  rebellious  wives." 

"  What  has  caused  the  change?"  asked  Marion,  "and  how 
long  have  you  lived  so  peaceably  together  ?  " 

"  Only  a  year,"  the  quartette  replied,  and  then  Josephine 
took  up  the  thread  of  the  narrative. 

"  The  change  was  caused  by  a  little  black-eyed  minx  of 
sixteen,  who  coaxed  and  flirted  around  our  husband  until 
his  head  was  turned,  and  although  he  had  declared  that  he 
never  would  have  but  four  wives,— and  lie  can  scarcely  sup- 
port them  and  all  the  children,— yet  a  few  weeks  ago  he 
married  this  girl,  and  then  I  Avas  thankful,  as  I  was  when 
Ruth  was  married  to  him,  that  I  was  not  the  first  wife." 

"  Why  were  you  thankful  for  that  ?  " 


SACRIFICED    ON    THE    MORMON    AI.TAR.  51 

"0,  don't  3^ou  understand?  Well,  I  should  rcmcnihcr 
that  you  are  probably  ignorant  of  a  great  many  of  our  cus- 
toms, but  we  will  try  to  teach  you.  The  first  wife  always 
gives  her  husband  all  his  other  wives.  And  Caroline  has 
had  to  place  the  hand  of  each  of  us  in  our  husband's,  at  the 
ceremony  in  the  endowment  house.  I  did  not  tliink,  by  lier 
appearance  when  she  gave  me  to  him,  that  she  would  ever 
be  so  good  a  friend  to  me." 

"  \yell,  about  this  last  wife?"  Marion  inquired,  for  her 
curiosity  was  getting  the  better  of  her  disgust. 

"  Yes,  about  her  I  was  speaking.  We  were  all  perfectly 
agreed  that  no  such  person  should  come  into  oar  house  to 
deprive  us  of  our  rights  and  domineer  over  us.  In  short, 
we  perfectly  hated  her!  " 

"But  you  were  saying  that  Avomen  should  be  submissive 
to  their  husbands,  and  that  religion  should  make  you  live 
peaceably  with  the  other  wives.  Wliy  should  you  hate  her 
any  more  than  each  other?  " 

"  She  is  such  a  chit  of  a  thing,  not  much  older  than  his 
oldest  daughter." 

"  Four  wives  arc  enough  !  " 

"  He  robs  us  of  wliat  we  and  our  children  need  to  make 
her  presents." 

"There  is  no  room  for  her  in  the  house,  besides,  we  hate 
to  have  our  huif^band  make  such  a  fool  of  himself,"  the  four 
wives  chimed  in  chorus. 

^Irs.  Caroline  proceeded  to  explain.  "  If  she  had  been 
the  proper  person,  it  would  have  been  different.  But  a  little 
young  thing,  with  no  bringing  up  for  work,  and  nothing  but 
her  red  cheeks  and  black  eyes,  winch  some  say  are  so  hand- 
some, but  which  look  only  bold  and  impudent  to  me.  If  lie 
had  even  asked  our  consent,  we  should  not  disapprove  so 
strongly  of  the  marriage.  If  we  had  consented,  and  had 
been  allowed  to  select  his  fifth  wife,  and  needed  her  help  in 


52  ELDER   NOr.THFIELD's   HOME;    CR, 

the  house,  and  she  were  a  plain,  sensible  woman,  instead  of 
the  useless  doll  she  is,  and  if  our  liusband's  circumstances 
had  been  different,  it  might  have  been  very  well.  But  we 
are  unanimous!}^  of  the  opinion  that  it  was  decidedl}^  Avrong, 
and  we  pledge  ourselves  to  show  our  disapprobation  under 
all  circumstances." 

"  But  did  you  not  feci  the  same  with  regard  to  your 
husband's  taking  his  other  wives,  Mrs.  Caroline  and  Mrs. 
Ellen  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes ;  that  is, — I  suppose  we  did  to  some  extent, 
but  we  have  no  ill  feelings  now  about  it.  But  this  is  so 
entirely  different.  Such  an  outrage  upon  us  all;  and  we  are 
resolved  not  to  endure  it." 

"Yes,"  said  another,  "and  the  new  wife  is  finding  her 
quarters  not  quite  so  agreeable  as  she  expected.  Not  that 
we  treat  her  badly,  0,  no!  We  never  would,  do  that!  But 
we  try  to  make  her  about  as  uncomfortable  as  we  can,  and 
as  there  are  four  of  us,  w^e  have  met  with  some  success.  Of 
course  we  do  not  do  this  when  our  husband  is  by  to  see  it, 
but  she  brings  her  complaints  to  him,  and  then  when  he  re- 
monstrates with  us,  we  tell  him  of  her  disrespectful  treat- 
ment of  us,  until,  really,  if  I  did  not  feel  it  my  duty  to 
harden  my  heart,  I  should  quite  pity  the  man." 

'•  But,"  here  interrupted  another,  "  we  told  him  how  it 
would  be,  and  I  guess  he  does  not  enjoy  himself  quite  as 
well  as  he  expected." 

"Well,  but  what  is  your  object  in  such  a  course?  Why 
not  make  tlie  best  of  it,  now  that  it  cannot  be  helped,  and 
try  to  make  yourselves  and  the  new  wife  more  happy,  and 
live  on  good  terms  with  her  as  you  do  with  each  other?  Do 
you  not  think  it  wrong  to  treat  her  so  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  very  wrong  if  it  had  been  right  for  him  to 
marry  her.  But  he  was  not  counselled  to  marry  her,  and 
there  is  another  man  who  wanted  her,  and  had  been  coun- 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  53 

selled  by  Brother  Brigham  to  marry,  and  that  man  has  only 
one  wife.  So  3'OU  see  that  it  is  all  wrong,  and  we  are  going 
to  do  what  we  can  to  right  the  wrong.  First,  we  mean  to 
make  it  desirable  for  her  to  live  in  some  other  house.  If  we 
get  her  out  of  the  house,  that  will  be  one  important  step. 
Then  we  count  on  the  help  of  the  man  who  should  have 
been  her  husband,  and  if  we  finally  get  her  divorced,  we 
shall  then  be  all  right  again,  and  shall  take  good  care  not  to 
get  into  another  such  mess." 

"  We  very  seldom,"  said  Mrs.  Caroline,  "  speak  of  our 
domestic  life  to  others,  and  especially  to  strangers,  and  we 
never  would  have  confided  all  this  to  you,  but  felt  it  our 
duty,  as  you  appeared  to  oppose  polygamy,  and  I,  for  one, 
wished  to  convince  you  of  your  mistake.  Now  you  can  see 
for  yourself  how  agreeably  we  four  wives  live  together,  and 
what  a  happy  family  we  should  be  if  only  we  were  rid  of 
•this  fifth  wife.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  carrying  things  to 
excess — even  polygamy." 

"  But  we  have  spent  a  long  time  in  convincing  you  that 
polygamy  is  right,  and  almost  forgotten  our  errand,"  said 
Ruth,  who  was  less  talkative  than  her  sister  wives,  and  more 
personally  interested  in  their  errand. 

"  Yes,"  said  wife  number  three,  "  and  I  hope  you  will  not 
think  we  are  asking  too  much,  but  will  you  be  kind  enough 
to  let  us  see  your  best  bonnet  and  most  stylish  dress,  and  if 
you  have  any  late  fashion  books,  will  you  lend  them  to  us? 
As  you  come  directly  from  the  Gentiles,  of  course  you  know 
what  are  the  latest  styles,  and  here  we  do  not  get  them  till 
they  are  old.  Our  husband  has  bought  his  new  wife  a  very 
fine  suit,  bonnet  and  all.  The  bonnet  was  made  by  our  best 
milliner,  and  the  money  should  have  been  used  for  tlie  bene- 
fit of  us  and  our  children.  The  brazen-faced  thing  looks  so 
fine  and  proud,  as  she  goes  with  our  husband  to  church,  that 
we  are  resolved  to  take  her  down.    Now  with  a  little  of  your 


64  ELDER   NORTIIFIELd's   HOME  ;    OR, 

assistance  in  tlie  matter  of  taste  and  style,  vre  can  get  np  a 
suit  for  Ruth  that  will  be  finer  than  liers.  We  will  buy  the 
poods  on  credit,  and  order  the  bills  sent  in  to  i\Ir.  Smith. 
Ruth  will  look  far  finer  than  she  looks,  dressed  equally  as 
well.  She  was  alwa3\s  called  handsome,  and  I  like  to  imagine 
that  girl's  mortification  and  rage  at  seeing  Ruth  outshine 
her,  and  perhaps  the  bills  will  help  bring  our  husband  to  his 
senses.  Now,  Mrs.  Northfield,  don't  you  think  this  is  a  good 
plan,  and  can  you  give  us  any  assistance?" 

Marion  was  now  thoroughly  disgusted  with  her  visitors, 
and  replied  that  she  did  not  think  it  was  a  good  plan,  and 
that  she  could  not  assist  them,  for  she  had  not  followed  the 
fashion  herself  since  she  became  a  Mormon,  and  supposed 
that  giving  up  the  world  meant  giving  up  its  fashions,  also. 
In  England,  that  was  what  the  elders  preached. 

"They  preach  it  here,  too,  but  they  do  not  practice  it," 
answered  one  of  the  four.  ''  They  all  dress  their  last  wife  as 
fashionably  as  they  can  till  they  are  tired  of  her.  But  if 
you  do  not  mean  to  help  us,  after  all  we  have  confided  in 
you,  we  had  better  be  going.  We  should  like  to  have  you 
return  our  call  with  your  husband  and  his  other  wives,  when 
he  gets  them."  And  with  this  malicious  remark,  the  four 
women,  with  their  little  ones,  who  had  been  alternately  cry- 
ing and  laughing,  during  the  visit,  took  their  departure. 

Marion  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief,  and  mentally  exclaimed, 
*'  If  all  Mormon  women  are  like  these,  I  never  wish  to  see 
another." 

But  all  were  not  like  these,  as  she  afterwards  found,  and 
many  and  strong  became  the  ties  which  bound  her  to  some 
of  the  women  of  Utah. 

It  had  formerly  been  an  earnest  wish  of  INIarion's  to  meet 
with  the  Mormon  brethren  and  sisters  in  public  meeting  for 
worship  in  their  stronghold  Zion.  She  wished  to  hear  the 
word  directly  from  Brigham  Young  and  the  Apostles  them- 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  65 

selves.  Of  late  her  desire  to  attend  such  a  meeting  ,»as  not 
caused  by  religious  zeal  and  enthusiasm,  but  rather  by  a 
hope  that  in  the  meetings  there  might  be  something  to  coun- 
teract the  feeling  of  dissatisfaction  of  which  she  was  pos- 
sessed with  regard  to  her  experiences  of  Mormonism,  so  far. 
She  hoped  that  her  faith  might  yet  be  renewed,  and  some- 
thing of  her  old  peace  of  mind  return  to  her. 

Elder  Northfield,  too,  was  eager  to  hear  the  words  of  wis- 
dom from  their  inspired  leader  and  the  other  favored  ser- 
vants of  God.  So  they  made  their  way  on  the  first  Sabbath 
after  their  arrival  in  the  city  to  the  tabernacle,  each  antici- 
pating a  blessing  from  attendance  there. 

In  the  tabernacle  was  gathered  the  great  body  of  Saints, 
with  their  wives,  their  children,  and  their  whole  households. 
Marion  watched  them  as  they  entered,  two  or  three,  or  often 
more,  wives,  with  their  children,  following  the  head  of  the 
household  up  the  aisle.  Involuntarily  she  noticed  the  lack 
of  courtesy  in  the  bearing  of  the  men  towards  the  women. 
Those  delicate  little  attentions  and  preferences  in  regard  to 
seats  usually  accorded  to  women  in  Gentile  society  were 
wanting  here,  and  they  were  left  with  the  children  to  look 
out  for  themselves  as  best  they  might,  except  it  might  be 
some  one  wife  who  was  apparently  the  reigning  fiivorite  for 
the  time.  She  noticed  the  striking  effect  of  the  great  variety 
of  costumes  of  the  worshippers,  especially  of  the  women. 
Some  were  clad  in  the  plainest  and  poorest  of  clothes,  with 
an  utter  disregard  for  taste  or  comeliness ;  others  were  well 
dressed  in  a  quiet  way,  while  a  third  class  were  conspicuous 
for  their  evident  desire  to  outshine  their  sister  worshippers 
in  the  display  of  gaudy  clothing  and  a  plentiful  supply  of 
jewelry,  which  was  of  necessity  of  the  cheaper  kind.  This 
latter  class  showed  that  even  the  Mormon  women  were  not 
free  from  that  trait  so  commonly  considered  a  feminine 
attribute.     Brigham  Young  was  the  speaker,  and  every  emi- 


56  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;    OR, 

grant  eye  was  riveted  upon  him  as  he  arose.  There  was 
their  inspired  leader,  their  guide,  their  counsellor,  their 
ruler.  In  him  they  now  beheld  the  man  whom  God  had 
chosen  to  receive  his  divine  revelations  and  to  present  them 
to  his  people.  Henceforth  his  word  was  to  be  law  to  them, 
and  under  his  direction  they  were  to  devote  all  their  ener- 
gies to  the  up-building  of  the  Latter-Day  Saints.  It  must 
not  be  supposed  that  all  were  possessed  of  this  f.matical 
state  of  mind.  There  were  many  exceptions,  and  Marion 
was  one  of  them.  But  she  was  not  entirely  free  from  the  awe 
with  which  her  fellow  emigrants  listened  for  the  thrilling 
words  of  exhortation  or  the  inspired  interpretation  of  the 
scriptures,  as  they  expected  to  witness  a  display  of  the 
power  of 'God  surpassing  that  they  had  enjoyed  in  the  meet- 
ings in  England.  But  they  were  disappointed.  Brother 
Brigham  was  very  matter  of  fact  in  his  discourse.  It  began 
with  a  request  for  money  to  be  brought  in  to  him  with  a 
lavish  hand  for  some  public  works,  and  an  exhortation  to 
the  brethren  to  greater  diligence  in  laboring  to  support  the 
church,  and  ended  with  remarks  to  the  women  of  the 
church  regarding  obedience  to  its  teachings,  and  to  their 
husbands  as  set  forth  in  the  New  Testament  by  the  Apostle 
Peter,  and  instructions  with  regard  to  spending  their  hus- 
band's substance  for  the  outer  adornment  of  their  persons 
and  homes,  instead  of  devoting  it  to  the  up-building  of 
Zion.  The  sermon  contained  an  exhortation  to  the  newly- 
arrived  emigrant  to  foithfulness,  and  was  interspersed  with 
bigoted  remarks  to  the  praise  of  the  Mormon  Church,  and 
eulogies  in  bad  grammar  were  attempted  for  the  deceased 
leader  of  Mormonism,  Joseph  Smith,  and  his  associates. 
Strong  denunciations  against  the  Gentile  world  were  in 
order,  and  the  whole  discourse  though  from  the  lips  of  the 
great  head  of  the  church  was  far  from  meeting  the  expecta- 
tions ol  those  who  now  heard  him  for  the  first  time.    Marion 


SACRIFICED    ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  57 

was  surprised  and  disappointed.  She  thought  of  the  elo- 
quent sermons  delivered  by  her  own  husband  in  England, 
carrying  conviction  to  every  heart.  She  thought  of  the 
earnestness  and  Christian  kindness  towards  all  men,  which 
was  noticeable  in  them,  of  the  intelligence  and  force  with 
which  liis  arguments  were  presented,  and  felt  tliat  her  hus- 
band and  many  another  elder  might  have  edified  and 
strengthened  the  Saints  to  a  much  greater  degree  than 
Brother  Brigham  had.  -  She  had  come  lioping  to  be  strength- 
ened in  the  faitlr,  but  went  away  more  unbelieving,  if  that 
were  possible.  Marion  could  not  confide  her  every  thought 
to  her  husband  with  the  freedom  of  a  few  weeks  ago,  for 
with  his  faith  in  Mormonism — the  Mormonism  as  he  knew 
it  in  England  without  the  doctrine  of  polygamy-^still  un- 
shaken, he  could  not  sympathize  with  her  in  her  disbelief 
and  dislike  of  what  she  here  saw  and  heard.  It  troubled 
liim  that  she  could  not  shake  off  her  depression  of  spirits  and 
again  rejoice  in  her  faith  in  their  religion.  And  Marion, 
as  she  noticed  thib,  gradually  became  in  one  respect  like 
most  of  the  Mormon  women,  keeping  her  thoughts  and 
many  of  her  troubles  locked  in  her  own  heart.  Her  hus- 
band was  ever  kind  and  indulgent  towards  her,  and  his  de- 
votion was  unflagging.  In  their  own  home  together  they 
spent  many  happy  hours,  and  Marion  wrote  a  very  reassur- 
ing letter  to  Elsie,  which  gave  the  latter  much  comfort,  as 
she  looked  with  fewer  apprehensions  toward  the  future  years 
of  Marion's  life. 

Marion's  domestic  duties  had  kept  her  at  home  quite 
closely  for  the  first  few  days  after  her  arrival  in  the  city,  and 
she  really  had  little  desire  to  go  out  of  it,  for  there  peace 
and  domestic  happiness  reigned  whatever  might  exist  be- 
yond. She  had  learned  enough  of  polygamy  so  soon  to 
cause  her  to  shrink  from  a  further  encounter  of  its  effects; 
but  she  knew  she  must  become  accustomed  to  its  sights 


58  ELDER   NORTRFIELD's    HOME;   OR, 

and  sounds,  and  so  one  morning  she  set  out  for  a  walk  in 
the  city.  On  one  street,  where  the  poorer  classes  of  Mor- 
mons lived,  she  passed  a  miserable  cottage,  or  hut,  where — 
as  was  common  among  that  class — the  famil}^,  large  or 
small,  lived  in  two  rooms.  Several  children  were  engaged 
in  an  excited  quarrel  over  what  appeared  to  be  a  small 
kitten.  Two  or  three  were  crying  most  vigorously  with  grief 
and  rage,  and  struggling  with  each  other  for  the  possession 
of  the  kitten,  and  all  were  indulging  in  excited  and  angry 
exclamations. 

At  this  crisis  the  door  of  the  hut  opened,  and  there  ap- 
peared upon  the  scene  a  woman,  clad  in  a  dirty  and  ragged 
dress,  and  with  features  sharpened  by  ^ooverty  and  trouble. 
She  advanced  to  the  scene  of  warfare  and  proceeded  to 
settle  the  difficulty  by  separating  the  combatants  and  dis- 
tributing blows  right  and  left ;  then  took  the  much-enduring 
kitten  and  gave  it  to  a  small  girl  who  had  stood  one  side 
and  taken  no  active  part  in  the  proceeding.  By  this  time 
two  other  women  had  emerged  from  the  house  and  joined 
the  group,  and  Marion  had  come  near  enough  to  see  that  the 
eyes  of  one  were  swollen  with  weeping.  Altogether  the  three 
females  presented  anything  but  an  attractive  appearance. 
The  hard  lines  about  the  mouth,  the  look  of  misery  and  de- 
fiance in  the  eye,  and  sullen,  hopeless  expression  of  the 
whole  countenance,  impressed  Marion  vividly.  They  sided 
each  with  those  children  who  seemed  to  belong  to  them  re- 
spectively, and  the  quarrel  was  continued  b}^  the  three 
mothers  principally,  the  children  ragged,  dirty,  and  open- 
mouthed,  watching  and  listening  to  the  angry  exclamations 
and  fierce  denunciations  which  fell  from  the  lips  of  those 
mothers  who  should  have  rebuked  their  children  by  ex- 
ample as  well  as  precept.  Marion  could  hardly  refrain  from 
putting  her  hands  to  her  ears  to  shut  out  the  disgusting 
sounds,  and  hurrying  past,  she  breathed  more  freely  as  she 


SACRIFICED    ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  5D 

came  into  a  street  where  a  better  class  of  people  rcsidecl. 
She  had  not  proceeded  far  when  a  boy  came  running  after 
her,  sayinp:,  "  Marm !  marm  !  I  guess  you've  lost  your 
pocket-book,"  and  turning  she  reached  out  her  hand  to  re- 
ceive the  lost  article,  which,  however,  she  had  not  missed, 
and  another  boy  of  about  the  same  size  came  up  and  snatched 
it  away  from  boy  number  one.  This  one  was  much  better 
dressed  than  the  first,  and  had  a  look  and  air  of  importance 
as  he  clung  to  the  pocket-book  and  said:  "I  was  the  one 
that  found  your  money,  ma'am.  I  see  it  drop,  and  was 
picking  it  up,  when  this  boy  that  I  never  see  afore  run  and 
snatched  it  away  from  me  to  give  it  to  you." 

"No,  he  warn't  pickin'  it  up,  neither;  he  was  pickin'  it 
open  to  git  some  money  out  fust,  and  I  grabbed  it  then  and 
run  to  you,  and  it's  all  right,  ma'am,  if  you'll  just  look  and 
see." 

But  the  difficulty  seemed  to  be  in  getting  an  opportunity 
to  "  look  and  see,"  for  bo\^  number  two  held  on  to  the  money 
in  his  anger  with  the  grasp  of  a  miser.  After  a  word  of  per- 
suasion, however,  he  gave  it  to  Marion,  then  turned  again 
to  his  newh^-made  enemy,  who  had  dared  him  to  fight,  and 
said:  "I  guess  you  don't  know  who  I  am!  I  am  Brigham 
Young's  son."  "And  I  guess  you  don't  know  who  I  am," 
returned  the  boy  with  ragged  trousers  and  torn  hat,  and  he 
drew  himself  proudly  up  with  all  the  dignity  and  import- 
ance of  a  king's  son  as  he  added,  "  I  am  Brigham  Young's 
son."  The  brothers  sibod  abashed,  and  for  a  moment  speech- 
less in  their  astonishment,  and  Marion  shared  their  sensa- 
tions to  such  a  degree  that  she  stood  with  her  eyes  riveted 
on  them.  At  that  moment  she  recognized  an  elder  whom 
she  had  known  in  England  approaching  on  the  walk.  With 
him  was  a  portly  man  with  strong  features  and  a  pleasant 
expression.  The  former  kindly  greeted  Marion,  and  stood 
speaking  with  her,  while  his  companion  turned  to  the  well- 


60  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;    OR, 

dressed  boy,  who  was  somewhat  cowed  now,  and  exclaimed, 
"  Jack,  what  does  this  mean  ?  What  are  you  and  this  raga- 
muffin doing  here?'' 

"  Why,  father,  he  sa^^s  he  is  your  son  !  " 

Brigham  Young's  face  crimsoned,  and  the  ragamuffin 
stepped  timidly  up  to  him  and  said,  "Yes,  sir,  and  please, 
sir,  mother  sent  me — " 

"  Well,  well,  I  hardly  knew  you,  you  have  grown  so  fast 
of  late;  but  don't  come  into  the  city  again  in  such  a  rig  as 
that.  Why  didn't  you  put  on  your  best  clothes,  my 
boy  ?  " 

"I  did,  sir;  please,  sir,  these  are  my  best  clothes,  and 
mother  sent  me  to  tell  you  we've  got  a — " 

"  Well,  well,  I  can't  be  hindered  now  ;  I'm  in  a  hurry. 
Tell  your  mother  I'll  come  and  see  her  in  a  few  days.  Now 
run  home.    Come,  Jack." 

And  here  the  prophet,  priest,  and  king,  the  inspired  man 
of  God,  joined  his  companion,  who  bid  good-day  to  Marion, 
and  walked  on  with  Brigham  Young  and  his  favored  son. 
The  other  son  winked  and  blinked  to  keep  the  tears  back,  as 
he  walked  by  Marion's  side,  at  her  request,  and  told  her  his 
story. 

"  Your  mother  had  sent  you,  hadn't  she,  to  ask  Brigham 
Young  to  give  you  a  new  suit  of  clothes  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am,  she  sent  me  to  ask  him  to  come  and  see  the 
baby,  and  give  her  some  things  she  needs." 

"  The  baby  !     And  how  old  is  the  baby  ?  " 

"Two  weeks,  ma'am,  and  father  hasn't  seen  it  yet;  but 
when  he  does,  I  know  he'll  give  mother  the  things  it  needs, 
for  if  it  ain't  crying,  it'll  look  so  cunning  and  pretty  he  can't 
help  liking  it,  I  know.  Why,  ma'am,  you  never  saw  so 
pretty  a  baby — such  cunning  faces  as  it  makes  up,  and  such 
pretty  little  hands,  and  such  curly  hair." 

"  How  far  from  here  do  you  live  ?  " 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  61 

"  0,  just  out  of  town  a  mile  or  two." 

"  Has  your  father  many  wives  scattered  out  in  the  coun- 
try ?  " 

''  No,  I  guess  not.  Most  of  'em  live  in  the  big  house  up 
yonder ;  but  my  ma  says  she  ruther  live  alone  with  me  and 
baby." 

"  But  are  you  very  poor  ?  Is  your  mother  suffering  from 
want?" 

"  0,  no  !  Not  now,  for  the  neighbors  have  given  us  things, 
and  we  have  molasses  on  our  bread,  now,  too.  But  mother 
thought  father  ought  to  know  about  baby,  and  I  should  had 
to  a  gone  up  to  the  big  house  if  I  hadn't  a  seen  him.  But, 
0,  dear!  ma  can't  have  the  things  now,  and  most  likely  he'll 
forget  to  come  and  see  about  it  at  all." 

The  boy  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  Marion  placed  in  his 
hand  a  piece  of  money,  which  she  bade  him  give  his  mother, 
and  tell  her  it  was  a  reward  for  her  son's  honesty.  The  boy 
thankfully  accepted  it,  and  bidding  her  good-bye,  turned  in 
the  direction  of  his  home. 

This  was  Marion's  first  personal  encounter  with  Brigham 
Young.  It  did  not  give  her  a  very  elevated  opinion  of  his 
character  or  of  the  results  of  polygamy.  But  all  efforts  on 
her  part  to  regard  Mormonisin  with  favor,  or  to  believe  in  its 
teachings,  had  ceased,  and  now  all  she  could  hope  was  in 
"  getting  used  to  it,"  as  the  elders  said,  and  in  freedom  from 
it  in  her  own  home. 

That  same  evening  the  elder  she  had  met  called  upon 
tliem.  Naturally  tliey  referred  to  the  occurrence  which  the 
elder  and  Marion  had  witnessed  in  company  that  day,  and 
Marion  expressed  her  disgust  with  the  system  which  left  one 
wife  and  her  children  in  the  extreme  of  ])ovcrty  while  otlicrs 
enjoyed  the  luxuries  of  life;  which  caused  a  father  to  forget 
almost  his  children's  very  existence. 

The  elder  replied,  "  Ah,  Brother  Brigham  knows  what  ho 


62  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's   HOME;    OR, 

is  about,  and  what  is  right,  and  no  doubt  this  woman  gets 
all  she  deserves." 

This  slightly  angered  Marion,  and  she  said,  "  In  the  Gen- 
tile world  no  such  ])arbarity  could  exist,  save  in  heathen 
lands,  and  much  less  be  spoken  of  in  the  contented  way  in 
which  you  speak  of  this  poor  .woman." 

"  Hoity !  toity !  My  dear  sister,  you  take  a  good  deal 
upon  yourself  to  speak  in  that  way.  The  sisters  here  never 
indulge  in  such  remarks  against  their  leaders,  but  learn  sub- 
mission and  obedience,  and  I  would  strongly  advise  you  to 
do  the  same,  Sister  Northfield." 

"  I  will  obey  and  submit  to  my  husband,  most  gladl^^  and 
once  I  was  ready  to  blindly  obey  any  direction  or  counsel 
of  any  Mormon  elder,  but  I  confess  those  days  are  past. 
The  knowledge  you  and  the  others  imparted  to  my  husband 
concerning  polygamy,  while  on  shipboard,  has  destroyed  my 
faith  in  Mormonism  and  taken  away  my  happiness,  and 
Avere  it  not  for  my  husband,  I  never  should  have  been  here. 
I  am  only  happy  now  when  in  my  own  home,  away  from 
all  sight  or  sound  of  polygamy." 

"  You  will  soon  get  over  that.  Indeed,  I  did  not  know 
you  were  so  weak  in  the  faith,  or,  rather,  destitute  of  it,  and 
I  am  very  sorry,  indeed,  for  Brother  Northfield's  sake,  and 
your  own,  that  such  is  the  case.  I  advise  you,  as  a  friend, 
however,  never  to  express  such  thoughts  again,  for  I  fear  you 
will  get  into  trouble.  You  show  your  ignorance  of  social 
life  here,  in  speaking  so  boldly.  You  will  call  down  the  at- 
tention of  the  Apostles,  and  Brigham  Young  himself,  and 
tliey  have  it  in  their  power  to  make  you  bitterly  repent  of 
your  rebellion  against  your  religion.  That  is  not  alb  nor 
the  worst.  You  will  lose  all  hope  of  eternity  in  tlie  Celes- 
tial Kingdom,  and  be  separated  forever  from  your  husband, 
who  deserves  and  will  have  a  place  on  the  right  hand  of 
God." 


SACRIFICED    ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  G3 

"  It  ma}^  all  be  as  you  say,  and  I  have  not  said  much  on 
the  subject  before,  but  in  the  few  days  I  have  been  here  I 
have  had  so  many  glimpses  of  the,  to  me,  terrors  of  polyg- 
amy, of  the  sorrow  of  woman's  life,  that  my  heart  is  full, 
and  in  my  indignation  at  your  want  of  sympathy,  I  very 
foolishly,  no  doubt,  expressed  my  feelings." 

"  If  you  have  only  seen  the  dark  side  of  polygamy,  it  is 
time  you  saw  the  bright  side,  and  I  will  show  it  to  you." 

"  Is  there  a  bright  side  to  polygamy  ?  " 

"  Come  to  my  house  and  judge  for  yourself.  I  have  four 
wives,  sweet  submissive  women,  happy  and  kind  to  each 
other,  sharing  the  labors  of  our  home,  caring  for  their  chil- 
dren and  each  other's  children,  in  the  kindness  of  their 
hearts.  There  are  seven  children,  and  as  there  are  so  many 
mothers,  they  can  be  cared  for  with  ease,  and  all  their  little 
troubles  and  wants  attended  to.  In  the  evening  we  all  meet, 
and  the  children,  always  neat  and  clean,  indulge  in  a  merry 
play  of  some  kind,  the  mothers  fondly  watching  them,  and 
the  father  sometimes  joining  them  in  their  play.  My  fomily 
is  my  pride,  and  if  you  could  have  seen  the  welcome  I  re- 
ceived from  them  all  on  my  return  from  England,  you  would 
say  surely  there  is  a  bright  side  to  polygamy.  I  love  all  my 
waves  devotedly,  and  they  return  my  affection,  without  any 
jealousy,  believing  that  the  more  waves  a  man  has  the 
higher  he,  and  they  through  him,  will  be  exalted  in  tlie 
Celestial  Kingdom.  If  you  doubt  this,  I  and  my  wives  will 
be  pleased  to  have  you  call  upon  us,  with  your  husband,  and 
see  with  your  own  eyes  that  what  I  have  been  saying  is  the 
truth." 

"  I  most  certainly  shall  call.  Elder  Atkins,  for  it  will  be  a 
great  pleasure  to  me  to  see  such  a  picture  as  you  represent. 
I  have  not  yet  seen  one  woman  who  seemed  to  be  happy  in 
polygamy,  and  I  should  be  very  much  gratified  to  meet 


64  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's  HOME;    OB, 

"The  rcalit.y,  as  you  will  probably  find,  sometime,  will 
not  be  near  so  disap-eeable  as  you  imagine.  I  have  known 
women  quite  as  much  opposed  to  polygamy  as  you  are,  to 
ultimately  become  quite  contented  in  it.  You  should  strive 
to  conquer  your  prejudices,  and  believe  that  the  authorities 
of  the  church  are  better  judges  of  what  is  right  and  best  for 
you,  than  you  can  yourself  be,  and  allow  me  to  say  here, 
Brother  Northfield,"  and  the  speaker  turned  to  Elder  North- 
field,  who  had  listened  very  uneasily  to  the  turn  the  conver- 
sation hud  taken,  "  allow  me  to  say  that  in  my  opinion  the 
sooner  you  and  your  wife  enter  into  this  matrimonial  state, 
the  better  for  you  both.     T  would  respectfully  advise — " 

Here  Elder  Northfield  interrupted  him.  He  saw  the  flush 
of  unwonted  enthusiasm  die  on  Marion's  face,  and  in  its 
place  came  the  paleness  of  marble.  Her  quick  breathing 
and  expression  of  pain  did  not  escape  him,  and  he  could 
hear  no  more. 

He  said,  hurriedly,  "Let  us  change  the  subject,  if  you 
please.  Brother  Atkins.  It  does  not  concern  my  wife  and 
me,  and  never  will,  personally." 

"As  you  wish.  Brother  Northfield;  but  ten  years  from 
now — yes,  or  even  five— you  will  not  tell  me  so." 

Here  the  subject  was  dropped,  and  a  decided  coolness  was 
felt  by  the  three,  until  the  guest  departed. 

"  Marion,"  said  Elder  Northfield,  as  he  seated  himself  by 
her  side,  and  lovingly  drew  her  to  him,  "  I  little  dreamed 
you  were  feeling  so  bitterly  about  this  thing.  You  surprised 
me  tonight,  but  I  hope  you  will  be  more  guarded  in  future, 
my  dear  wife,  for  such  sentiments  expressed  may  bring  us 
into  trouble." 

*'  Henry,,  is  there  any  danger  of  our  being  forced  into 
polygamy,  as  my  aunt  in  New  York  intimated?" 

"No,  there  is  no  danger  of  my  ever  being  forced  into 
polygamy.  Cost  what  it  may  to  me,  I  will  never  tako 
another  wife.     Does  that  comfort  you  any,  my  wife  ?  " 


CACrJFICI-D   ON   THE   T^IOHMON    ALTAR.  Co 

Marion  Vv-ishcd  to  accept  Elder  Atkins'  invitation,  and  ac- 
cordingly she  and  her  husband  called  one  evening  upon  him 
and  his  family.  The  cider's  account  was,  in  the  main,  a 
truthful  one,  though  Marion  felt  sure  tlie  faces  of  those  wives 
were  not  those  of  happy  women.  In  rej)ose  they  had  a  sad, 
worn  expression,  which  contrasted  widely  with  their  clieer- 
ful  and  almost  gay  manner  in  conversation.  Truly  they 
were  kind  and  ladylike,  cultivated  and  intelligent,  and  made 
a  very  agreeable  impression  upon  their  visitors.  Marion  en- 
joyed her  call  exceedingly,  the  more  so  as  the  children 
seemed  so  bright  and  attractive ;  but  as  the  ladies  invited 
her  to  repeat  her  call,  she  resolved  to  do  so,  and  that  too 
when  neither  of  their  husbands  were  present,  to  learn 
whether  they  were  really  as  happy  as  represented  or  not, 
for  from  the  .expression  of  their  faces  she  could  not  help 
thinking  they  were  acting  a  part.  At  joarting.  Elder  Atkins 
said  to  her  in  an  undertone,  "  Have  j^ou  seen  the  bright 
side  or  not?"  Marion  answered  him  evasively,  and  they 
wished  their  host  and  hostesses  good-night  and  returned  to 
their  home. 
5 


66  ST.   IVES 

ing  families   converse  from  window  to  window,   and   at 
length  I  was  challenged  myself. 

"  Wha's  that  ? ''  cried  a  big  voice. 

I  could  see  it  proceeded  from  a  big  man  in  a  big  night- 
cap, leaning  from  a  one-pair  window  ;  and  as  I  was  not 
yet  abreast  of  his  house,  I  judged  it  was  more  wise  to  an- 
swer. This  was  not  the  first  time  I  had  had  to  stake  my 
fortunes  on  the  goodness  of  my  accent  in  a  foreign  tongue  ; 
and  I  have  always  found  the  moment  inspiriting,  as  a  gam- 
bler should.  Pulling  around  me  a  sort  of  great- coat  I  had 
made  of  my  blanket,  to  cover  my  sulphur-covered  livery,— 
''  A  friend  ! "  said  I. 

"  What  like's  all  this  collieshangie  ? ''  said  he. 

I  had  never  heard  of  a  collieshangie  in  my  days,  but  with 
the  racket  all  about  us  in  the  city,  I  could  have  no  doubt  as 
to  the  man's  meaning. 

"I  do  not  know,  sir,  really,''  said  I;  ''but  I  suppose 
some  of  the  prisoners  will  have  escaped."' 

''  Bedaraned  ! "  says  he. 

"  0,  sir,  they  will  be  soon  taken,"  I  replied  :  "  it  has 
been  found  in  time.     Good  morning,  sir  ! " 

''  Ye  walk  late,  sir  ?  "  he  added. 

"  0,  surely  not,"  said  I,  with  a  laugh.  "  Earlyish,  if 
you  like  I"  which  brought  me  finally  beyond  him^  highly 
pleased  with  my  success. 

I  was  now  come  forth  on  a  good  thoroughfare,  which  led 
(as  Avell  as  I  could  judge)  in  my  direction.  It  brought  me 
almost  immediately  through  a  piece  of  street,  whence  I 
could  hear  close  by  the  springing  of  a  watchman's  rattle, 
and  where  I  suppose  a  sixth  part  of  the  windows  would  be 
open,  and  the  people,  in  all  sorts  of  night  gear,  talking 
with  a  kind  of  tragic  gusto  from  one  to  another.  Here, 
again,  I  must  run  the  gauntlet  of  a  half-dozen  questions, 
the  rattle  all  the  while  sounding  nearer  ;  but  as  I  was  not 


SWANSTON   COTTAGE  67 

walking  inordinately  quick,  as  I  spoke  like  a  gentleman, 
and  the  lamps  were  too  dim  to  show  my  dress,  I  carried  it 
off  once  more.  One  person,  indeed,  inquired  where  I  was 
off  to  at  that  hour. 

I  replied  vaguely  and  cheerfully,  and  as  I  escaped  at  one 
end  of  this  dangerous  pass  I  could  see  the  watchman's  lan- 
tern entering  by  the  other.  I  was  now  safe  on  a  dark  coun- 
try highway,  out  of  sight  of  lights  and  out  of  the  fear  of 
watchmen.  And  yet  I  had  not  gone  above  a  hundred  yards 
before  a  fellow  made  an  ugly  rush  at  me  from  the  roadside. 
I  avoided  him  with  a  leap,  and  stood  on  guard,  cursing  my 
empty  hands,  wondering  whether  I  had  to  do  with  an  offi- 
cer or  a  mere  footpad,  and  scarce  knowing  which  to  wish. 
My  assailant  stood  a  little  ;  in  the  thick  darkness  I  could  see 
him  bob  and  sidle  as  though  he  were  feinting  at  me  for  an 
advantageous  onfall.     Then  he  spoke. 

"  My  goo'  frien',"  says  he,  and  at  the  first  word  I  pricked 
my  ears,  ^'  my  goo'  frien',  will  you  oblishe  me  with  lil  nesh- 
ary  infamation  ?     Whish  roa'  t'  Cramond  ?  " 

I  laughed  out  clear  and  loud,  ste2:)ped  up  to  the  convivi- 
alist,  took  him  by  the  shoulders  and  faced  him  about. 
*'My  good  friend,"  said  I,  ''I  believe  I  know  what  is  best 
for  you  much  better  than  yourself,  and  may  God  forgive 
you  the  fright  you  have  given  me  !  There,  get  you  gone 
to  Edinburgh  !"  And  I  gave  him  a  shove,  which  he  obeyed 
with  the  passive  agility  of  a  ball,  and  disappeared  incon- 
tinently in  the  darkness  down  the  road  by  which  I  had 
myself  come. 

Once  clear  of  this  foolish  fellow,  I  went  on  again  up  a 
gradual  hill,  descended  on  the  other  side  through  the 
houses  of  a  country  village,  and  came  at  last  to  the  bottom 
of  the  main  ascent  leading  to  the  Pentlands  and  my  des- 
tination. I  was  some  way  up  when  the  fog  began  to 
lighten  ;  a  little  farther,  and  I  stepped  by  degrees  into  a 


68  ELDER   NORTIIFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

she  had  thought  it.  Undoubtedly  Elder  Atkins  had  chosen 
wisely  in  the  taking  of  his  wives,  and  it  was  his  boast  that 
he  never  knew  them  to  disagree  or  exhibit  any  jealousy  of 
each  other.  He  knew  nothing  of  their  heartaches,  their 
sorrows,  and  womanly  longings  for  as  much  affection  from 
their  husband  as  they  gave  to  him.  He  knew  nothing  of 
their  constant  sacrifice  that  he  might  not  be  annoyed,  and 
in  his  heart  he  believed  his  wives  were  content.  Marion 
never  entered  another  polygamic  home  which  seemed  as 
happy  even  as  this,  and  her  impression  gradually  deepened 
that  there  was  no  bright  side  to  polygamy. 

Marion  was  quite  surprised  to  learn  that  any  such  worldly 
amusement  as  dancing  and  theatricals  were  allowed  and 
practiced  by  the  saints.  In  England,  although  a  lover  of 
dancing,  she  had  given  up  the  ball-room  and  its  associations 
for  her  religion,  and  was  greatly  surprised  to  learn  that  it 
was  approved  of  and  patronized  by  Brigham  Young,  and 
that  he  regularly  attended  the  balls  with  his  wives.  She  was 
not  sorry,  however;  for  her  religious  scruples  never  troubled 
her  now,  and  heartily  accepted  her  husband's  proposal  that 
they  should  attend  tlie  first  ball  after  their  arrival.  She 
thought  as  she  was  dressing  for  this  ball  of  the  many  merry 
times  she  had  had  in  England,  when,  with  Elsie,  she,  with 
a  girFs  love  of  making  herself  beautiful,  had  arrayed  her- 
self in  her  prettiest  costume  and  passed  many  an  hour  in 
the  pleasures  of  dancing.  She  had  supposed  all  such  earthly 
pleasures  were  past ;  but  here  she  was  preparing  again  for 
a  ball,  but  under  what  different  circumstances !  She  thought 
of  Elsie  as  they  used  to  assist  each  other  in  dressing,  but 
who  was  now  so  for  away.  She  thought  of  whom  her  proba- 
ble partners  in  the  dancing  would  consist,  and  her  anticipa- 
tions were  clouded.  Finally,  Elder  Northfield  entered  the 
room,  and  instead  of  finding  her  dressed,  he  found  her  with 
her  face  on  her  pillow  sobbing  like  a  child.     She  had  given 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  C9 

TV'ny  to  her  feelings  of  homesickness  tliiit  ni,i>lit,  and  thonii;]! 
vainly  trying  to  repress  lier  tears,  searched  for  something  of 
her  former  finery,  witliout,  however,  much  hope  of  finchng 
anytliing,  for  she  had  given  everything  of  that  description 
to  Elsie.  But  there  at  the  bottom  of  a  large  box  lay  a  small 
one,  enclosed  in  a  wrapping  of  paper.  Marion  opened  it 
meclianically,  and  what  was  her  surprise  to  see  a  beautiful 
necklace,  with  jewelry  to  match  !  It  was  one  which  had 
been  given  her  b}^  a  dear  friend  in  England,  and  she  sup- 
posed it  w\as  in  Elsie's  possession  now.  With  the  jewelry 
was  a  folded  paper,  containing  an  old-fashioned  gold  ring 
and  these  words:  "I  cannot  take  these,  Marion,  for  some 
time  I  believe  you  will  want  them.  Who  knows  but  you 
may  find  them  at  just  the  right  time  to  adorn  your  fair 
beauty  for  some  festive  gathering  of  the  saints?  Wear  them, 
dearest  sister,  and  be  happy  if  you  can." 

jMarion  threw  herself  on  to  her  pillow  then  and  sobbed, 
though  not  entirely  from  grief.  But  at  her  husband's  ap- 
proach, she  wiped  away  her  tears  and  put  on  the  ornaments, 
•which  she  had  once  given  up  forever,  as  she  had  thought,  and 
in  her  youthful  beauty,  brightened  by  her  ornaments,  and 
Vvith  all  traces  of  her  tears  vanished,  Elder  Northfield  looked 
at  her  with  all  a  lover's  enthusiasm  as  he  said  :  "  You  are 
beautiful,  my  Marion !  Take  care  that  you  make  no  con- 
quests to-night." 

*'  Never  fear,  there  is  no  one  here  for  me  to  conquer,"  she 
laughingly  replied. 

*'  Nevertheless,  I  predict  that  you  will  be  the  belle  of  the 
evening." 

"  Well,  at  any  rate  you  shall  not  be  neglected." 

Elder  Northfield's  prediction  was  fulfilled  in  a  certain 
sense.  Marion  fully  intended  at  first  thought  of  that  ball  to 
spend  much  of  her  time  in  cultivating  an  acquaintance  with 
the  ladies,  for  she  was  not  prepossessed  in   favor  of  the 


70  ET.DER   NORTIIFIELD's    HOME;   OR, 

]\Ionnon  men,  ai»d  intended  to  dance  but  very  little.  She, 
liowever,  found  iH^'selfdancini^  in  nearly  every  set  with  much 
more  i)lensure  than  she  thou^dit  possible  for  her  in  dancing 
witli  Mormons.  Her  partners,  however,  slic  was  able  to 
select,  and  she  accepted  few  but  very  young  men,  for  she  de- 
t<  rmined  not  to  dance  ^vith  any  man  who  was  liable  to  be 
neglecting  his  wife  or  wives  by  dancing  witli  her.  Her  hus- 
band, whom  she  had  "not  neglected,"  watciied  her  and  the 
admiration  she  excited,  and  was  truly  proud  of  her  beauty 
and  grace.  He  had  scarcel}'  seen  her  so  gay  in  spirits  since 
they  left  England,  and  he  fondl}^  rejoiced  in  her  apparent 
happiness.  The  women  watched  her,  too,  as  she  gracefully 
moved  about,  and  some  were  envious  of  her.  Injustice  to 
them,  however,  it: should  be  said  that  many  saw  with  glad- 
ness that  one  woman  among  them  had  not  lost  her  youthful 
sjtirits  or  her  fresli  young  beauty  by  sorrow.  Brigham 
Young  was  there  with  several  of  his  wives,  and  after  dancing 
once  witli  eacli  of  them,  lie  considered  hin:isolf  at  liberty  to 
dance  with  whom  he  would.  He  sought  the  reigning  beauty 
of  the  evening,  whom  he  recognized  as  a  witness  of  the 
quarrel  between  his  two  little  sons,  and  honored  her  by  ask- 
ing her  to  dance  with  him.  She  refused  liim,  as  she  had  the 
other  older  men  who  had  asked  her.  Her  husband  was 
sliocked  at  her  refusal  to  dance  with  their  leader,  who  seemed 
very  much  astonished  and  not  a  little  piqued.  No  native 
Mormon  woman  would  have  dared  refuse  a  dance  to  the 
prophet,  even  if  the  great  honor  did  not  make  it  unde- 
sirable to  do  so,  and  Marion  was  slightly  censured  by  a  few 
ladies  with  whom  slie  was  on  speaking  terms,  and  later,  by 
her  husband,  al  of  whom  tried  to  convince  her  of  her  rash- 
ness. Slie  told  her  husband  privately  tluit  she  did  not 
wish  to  dance  with  polygamists,  and  certainly  not  with  tlie 
greatest  of  them.  The  last  hour  before  they  left  the  hall 
Marion  would  not  dance.     She  wished  to  watch  the  people, 


SACRIFICED    ON    THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  71 

"who  were  a  study  to  her  in  their  variety  of  costumes,  moods, 
and  manners.  She  did  not  fail  to  see  that  not  all,  and  in- 
deed few,  were  as  happy  as  she,  if  their  faces  were  an  index 
of  their  hearts.  The  "  wall  flowers  "  were  very  numerous, 
and  as  Marion  realized  it,  she  felt  guilty  at  having  danced 
all  the  evening,  while  so  many  had  scarcely  danced  at  all. 
Many  of  them  looked  much  more  as  if  they  had  come  to  a 
place  of  mourning  than  to  a  place  of  amusement.  Marion 
watched  the  long  rows  of  women  as  they  sat  by  the  wall 
talking  sadly  together  in  twos  and  threes.  There  was  no 
life,  no  animation,  no  cheerfulness,  and,  Marion  thought,  no 
hope  on  their  faces.  They  could  sit  there  and  see  their  hus- 
bands, once  so  devotedly  dancing  attendance  upon  them, 
but  now  apparently  unconscious  of  their  existence,  all  ab- 
sorbed in  the  charms  of  a  later  wife,  or  some  maiden  who 
has  captivated  the  truant  husband's  fancy,  and  who  would 
eventually  possess  a  place  in  his  home  as  well  as  his  heart. 
AVhat  wonder  they  looked  with  sadness  upon  the  scene  and 
upon  their  own  future?  What  wonder  that  every  spark  of 
hope  and  joy  had  died  in  their  hearts  ?  Why  should  they 
not  solace  themselves  with  the  only  comfort  the  ball-room 
gave  them — the  opportunity  to  tell  each  other  their  sorrows 
and  comfort  each  other?  Among  this  class  at  last  Marion 
espied  her  callers,  the  Mrs.  Smiths,  or  at  least  three  of  them, 
Caroline,  Ellen,  and  Josephine ;  but  where  was  Ruth  ?  The 
former  three  were  eagerly  watching  some  of  the  dancers,  and 
at  last  Marion,  with  difficulty,  recognized  Mrs.  Ruth  dancing 
with  a  man  whom,  on  inquiry,  she  learned  was  her  husband. 
Evident! 3^  the  suit  which  was  to  eclipse  the  bride's  had  been 
manufactured,  and  Ruth  was  resplendent  in  it,  and  appa- 
rently had  regained  something  of  her  former  favor  with  her 
husband.  Now,  where  was  the  black-eyed  destroyer  of  the 
family  peace  ?  Marion  inquired,  and  she  was  pointed  out 
to  her,  dancing  very  contentedly  with  a  much  younger  man 


72  ELDER  NORTHFIELD's   IIOMI:  ;   OR, 

than  y.r.  Smith.  This  v;as  the  man  who  "  sliould  have  been 
licr  liusband,"  and  the  lour  first  wives  were  a  little  chagrined 
to  see  how  little  taken  down  the  fifth  was  at  Ruth's  fine 
appearance.  Sh.e  manifested  no  resentment,  no  sense  of 
neglect  by  her  husband,  or,  indeed,  any  other  emotion  con- 
cerning the  matter,  and  apparently  was  enjoying  the  evening 
very  much.  The  sequel  to  this  story  may  as  well  be  given 
here.  The  plan  of  the  four  wives  worked  well,  too  well  for 
the  happiness  of  three  of  them,  for  Ruth  became  again  the 
reigning  favorite,  something  very  singular  in  Mormon  life, 
but  resulting  partly  from  a  quarrel  between  the  last  wife 
and  the  husband,  and  partly  from  Rutli's  great  effort  to 
attract  and  please.  The  man  upon  whose  help  the  wives 
counted  did  not  fail  them,  and  the  result  was,  as  they  hoped, 
a  divorce,  which  could  always  be  obtained  by  paying  Brig- 
ham  Young  ten  dollars.  But  now  a  new  trouble  arose,  for 
Ruth  received  all  her  husband's  attentions  to  the  entire 
neglect  of  the  others.  These  attentions,  however,  were 
abundantly  offset  by  the  persecutions  of  the  jealous  sister 
wives,  who  had  placed  her  in  that  position. 

But  to  return  to  the  ball  room.  Marion  liad  not  seen  her 
friend  Carrie  since  their  arrival  in  tlie  city,  and  she  was 
quite  curious  to  know  how  she  succeeded  in  carrying  out 
her  doniestic  plans.  Carrie  was  here  to-night  dancing  nearly 
every  figure.  At  last  Marion  found  an  opportunity  to  speak 
with  her,  and  the  young  wives  were  soon  interchanging  ac- 
counts of  life  in  Zion.  It  seemed  from  Carrie's  tale  that  the 
proverb  was  verified,  which  says,  "The  course  of  true  love 
never  did  run  smooth."  "  I  never  was  so  surprised  in  my 
life,"  she  said,  "as  I  was  at  the  way  Elder  Parker's  otlier 
wives  received  me.  They  would  hardly  speak  to  me,  and 
when  I  attempted  to  assert  my  right  as  mistress  of  the  house, 
they  laughed  at  me  and  called  me  a  child,  and  as  such  they 
have  treated  me  ever  since.     They  send  me  on  errands,  and 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  73 

somehow  or  other  they  make  me  go.  T  have  nothing  to 
say  about  how  things  shall  go  in  the  house,  for  when  I  gave 
any  directions  about  anything  they  would  proceed  to  work 
in  just  an  opposite  way.  For  instance,  if  I  said  we  would 
liave  certain  dishes  for  dinner,  they  immediately  cooked 
something  else.  If  I  try  to  cook  anything  myself,  they  send 
me  away,  telling  me  they  will  do  the  cooking,  and  I  mny 
wash  dishes,  sweep,  etc.,  for  that  is  little  girls'  work.  If  I 
attempt  to  speak  when  we  have  callers,  they  immediately 
commence  talking  and  drown  my  voice.  In  short,  they 
treat  me  in  such  an  insulting  way  that  I  am  miserable,  and 
•why  should  they  do  it?  I  have  never  done  the  least  thing 
in  the  world  to  injure  them." 

"  Only  to  win  their  husband's  affections,"  said  Marion. 

Carrie  opened  her  eyes  in  astonishment  at  this,  but  did 
not  reply.  Marion  inquired,  "  But  why  do  you  not  go  to 
your  husband  with  your  troubles  and  have  them  righted  by 
his  interference  ?" 

"  I  have  been  to  him  and  he  tried  to  set  things  right,  but 
they  made  him  believe  that  I  mistook  even  their  kindness 
to  me  for  ill-treatment,  and  now  he  says  if  I  get  into  trou- 
ble with  the  other  wives  I  must  fight  it  out.  He  does  not 
believe  in  interfering  in  such  matters.  But  there  is  one  way 
that  I  hope  will  bring  me  out  of  my  troubles.  I  have  half 
persuaded  him  to  give  n^e  a  house  to  niyself,  and  even  if  I 
don't  see  so  much  of  him,  I  shall  not  be  tormented  by  his 
wives.  I  think  he  will  do  this  for  me,  for  he  is  very  fond 
of  me,  you  know." 

"  Well,  Carrie,  I  hope  he  will  do  so  for  your  sake,  and  for 
the  sake  of  the  other  wives,  for  I  reall}"  pity  you  and  every 
other  woman  who  is  not  the  onl}^  wife." 

Elder  Parker  soon  came  up  to  them,  and  after  a  few  mo- 
ments general  conversation,  they  separated  and  returned  to 
their  homes.    And  thus  had  passed  Marion's  first  evening 


74  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;    OR, 

in  piililic  pocicty  of  Salt  Lake  City.  After  all,  as  she  laid 
aside  lier  ornaments  and  tliouglit  of  Elsie,  she  felt  that  she 
•would  give  all  the  pleasure  of  a  hundred  such  evenin^is  for 
one  quiet  hour  with  her  sister.  But  she  never  could  have 
Elsie  again,  and  she  must  not  think  of  her  so  much.  She 
had  given  up  all  for  her  husband,  and  did  not  regret  the 
sacrifice. 


,    SACRIFICED   ON   THK   MORMON   ALTAR.  75 


CHAPTER  V. 

SINCE  her  aunt  had  told  her  something  of  the  early  his- 
tory of  her  friend,  Elder  Parker's  first  wife,  Marion 
wished  to  visit  her  for  her  aunt's  sake,  and,  if  possible,  be 
of  some  service  or  comfort  to  her  in  her  trouble. 

She  had  been  in  the  city  several  weeks,  however,  before 
an  opportunity  was  presented.  But  one  day  some  acquaint- 
ances were  going  out  into  the  country,  and  as  their  way  was 
directly  through  the  little  village  where  she  had  learned  that 
the  forsaken  wife  lived,  she  accompanied  them  as  far  as  the 
village,  which  was  but  a  few  miles  out  of  the  city. 

She  inquired  of  the  villagers  for  the  cottage  of  Mrs.  Parker, 
and  following  the  directions  received,  she  made  her  way  to 
the  poorest  dwelling  place  the  village  contained.  Her  own 
humble  home  seemed  elegant  by  comparison.  This  one 
seemed  scarcely  more  than  a  hut,  with  its  low  roof  and  two 
small  windows.  The  yard  was  the  redeeming  feature  of  the 
place,  for  it  was  swept  free  from  litter,  and  the  grass  was  grav- 
ing with  all  the  thrift  and  verdure  of  the  Salt  Lake  Valley. 
There  were  white  cotton  curtains  at  the  windows,  which,  if 
ragged,  were  very  clean,  and  pressed  against  the  window 
panes  were  two  small,  pinched  faces,  with  pale  cheeks  and 
large  black  eyes,  which,  with  the  locks  of  raven  black  hair 
that  hung  in  a  long  curly  mass  down  the  shoulders  of  the 
girl,  and  the  gaunt  wistfulness  of  the  boy,  gave  them  a  look 
of  weirdness.  Marion's  summons  was  answered  by  the 
mother,  a  counterpart  of  the  girl,  except  that  the  black  eyes 
were  sunken,  the  jetty  locks  abundantly  streaked  with  grey, 


76  ELDER    NORTIIFIELD's    HOME  ;    OR, 

althon^rli  tlic  v.-omnn  Imd  not  yet  passed  her  youth  ;  tlie  thin 
face  had  lines  of  misery  and  sorrow  on  it,  and,  altop^ether, 
slie  had  tlie  ap;)earance  of  more  wretcliedness  than  Marion 
liad  ever  seen  on  tl)e  face  of  woman.  Iler  eyes  liad  a  lumted 
look,  and  had  a  Ldeam  of  wildness  in  them  tliat  made  Marion 
feel  almost  afraid  of  her.  She  very  coldly  but  courteously 
invited  her  visitor  to  enter  and  be  seated,  offering  her  the 
only  whole  chair  in  the  room.  Marion  ftlt  that  she  was  con- 
sidered an  intruder,  and  hastened  to  apologize  for  her  visit 
by  referring  to  her  aunt  in  New  York,  and  saying  she  had 
come  hoj)ing  to  cheer  and  comfort  her,  as  she  knew  her  aunt 
"Nvould  gladly  do,  if  it  were  in  her  power.  She  spoke  of  the 
love  and  pity  with  which  her  aunt  had  referred  to  the  friend 
of  her  earlier  days,  and  then  it  was  that  the  cold  stony  look 
on  the  woman's  face  gave  place  to  a  softer  expression,  and 
pressing  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  she  wept  without  re- 
straint. The  little  ones  looked  astonished  and  frightened, 
as  though  tears  were  strangers  to  their  mother's  eyes. 

Marion  gently  stroked  the  bowed  head,  with  its  wealth  of 
jetty  and  silvery  hair,  and  said,  "  Forgive  me,  if  I  have  made 
you  sad.  O,  what  have  I  done  !  I  sou.ght  to  comfort  you, 
and  I  have  only  added  to  your  grief." 

"You  have  comforted  me,  do  not  think  you  have  not. 
These  tears  are  the  first  I  have  shed  for  many  a  month,  but 
somehow  the}'  relieve  my  aching  heart.  Some  of  my  misery 
seems  to  have  gone  with  them.  To  know  that  one  of  my 
former  friends,  one  of  the  friends  of  my  happier  da^'S,  even 
one  whose  counsel  I  heeded  not,  whose  kind,  loving  entreaties 
I  resisted,  and  thus  ruined  my  life,  both  in  this  world  and 
in  the  next — that  she  remembers  me  is  a  comfort,  indeed. 
But  tell  me  of  little  Lillian,  the  child  I  loved  so,  and  whose 
nurse  I  was  for  tliree  years.  Let  me  think — how  many  years 
have  passed  since  then?  Sometimes  I  am  confused  and 
can't  remember;  but  isn't  she  nearlv  grown_,  almost  a  young 
kdy?" 


SACRIFICED   ON    TKE   MOHMON    ALTAR.  77 

"She  was  quite  grown,  and  a  beautiful  irirl,  my  clear 
friend ;  but  a  few  months  ago  sl)e  w^is  laid  in  tb.e  grave." 

An  expression  of  sadness  came  over  the  poor  woman's 
face,  but  it  was  onl}^  momentary,  and  she  remarked  : 

"  There  is  nothing  for  which  to  mourn  in  that.  I  envy  her 
the  assurance  that  her  child  can  never  suffer  a  wretched 
womanhood.  Perhaps  I  am  wicked,  but  I  often  think  as  I 
look  at  my  Edith,  I  would  thank  God  to  take  her  away  from 
all  misery  and  wickedness.  And  I  have  had  times  of  terri- 
ble temptation,  when  I  think  I  have  hardly  been  myself, 
and  have  prayed  God  to  keep  me  from  doing  anything  dread- 
ful. But  what  am  I  saying,''  she  cried,  excitedly,  "and 
whom  am  I  saying  it  to?  Are  you  a  Mormon  woman  or  are 
you  a  Gentile?  Gentiles  seldom  come  here ;  but  you  do  not 
look  like  the  Mormon  women.  You  look  young,  fair,  and 
happy,  except  as  I  see  your  pity  for  me  in  your  face." 

"  I  am  a  Mormon  woman,  and  yet  I  am  not  a  Mormon, 
for  I  do  not  believe  in  their  religion  now,  although  I  did  be- 
lieve it  once,  before  I  knew  polygamy  was  a  part  of  it.  I 
have  lately  come  from  England  with  my  husband  and  twin 
sister,  whom  I  wish  you  might  see." 

Marion  sought  to  interest  her  in  other  topics  than  her  own 
troubles. 

"  Elsie  is  almost  the  image  of  the  lost  Lillian,  aunt  Wells 
says,  and  she  has  come  to  make  her  home  with  her.  Aunt 
wanted  me  to  remain  with  her,  too,  but — " 

"And  why  didn't  you  ?  Why  have  you  come  to  this  in- 
fernal place — this  hell  upon  earth  ?  Why  have  you  come  to 
a  place  where  women  are  little  better  than  slaves;  yes,  even 
worse  than  slaves ;  where  not  their  bodies,  perhaps,  but  their 
very  souls,  their  hearts,  are  cruohed  ?  Why  were  you  de- 
luded by  their  fanatical  teachings  and  their  falsehoods? 
Where  and  what  is  your  husband?  " 

"  He  is  in  the  city,  and  he  is  a  Mormon.  He  still  believes 
in  the  religion." 


78  ELDER    XORTIIFIELD's   HOME  ;    OR, 

"Then  God  i^ity  you!  for  he  will  break  your  heart  some 
day,  as  mine  has  been  broken." 

"  No,  my  friend,"  said  ^Marion,  though  at  the  thought  her 
heart  sank,  "  my  husband  will  never  forsake  me.  A  kinder, 
truer,  nobler  man  never  lived,  and  he  has  rej^eatedly  prom- 
ised me,  by  all  that  is  sacred,  nev«r  to  take  another  wife." 

"And  you  believe  him  !  "  exclaimed  the  woman. 

"Yes,  I  believe  him.  I  know  others  have  been  deceived, 
and  many  a  man  has  made  such  a  vow  only  to  break  it,  but 
my  husband  is  not  like  other  men.  He  will  be  true  to  me, 
I  know.  He  does  not  believe  in  polygamy  himself,  although 
a  devoted  Mormon  in  other  res])ects." 

"My  poor  child,  poor  child.  I  wish  I  had  the  same  faith 
for  you  that  you  have  for  yourself.  Now  I  see  the  secret  of 
your  happy  face.  You  have  hope.  Other  Mormon  women 
have  no  hope.  God  grant  you  years  of  just  such  security  as 
you  feel  now.  I  would  not  destroy  your  fiith  in  your  hus- 
band and  make  you  unhappy,  but  I  have  known  men  just 
as  noble  and  good,  as  you  say  your  husband  is,  when  they 
came  here,  but  I  never  knew  one  to  remain  many  years  noble 
and  good.  When  I  married  Elder  Parker,  I  believe  no  nobler, 
more  honorable  man,  than  he,  ever  lived.  He  was  deceived 
and  deluded  into  believing  in  Mormonism,  but  he  promised 
me  never  to  enter  into  polygamy,  and  I  believed  him,  and 
sacrificed  everything  for  him.  Look  at  me  now,  friendless 
and  alone ;  look  at  my  children,  look  at  our  home,  and  tell 
me  if  you  wonder  that  I  have  no  faith  in  the  promise  of  a 
Mormon." 

"  Have  you  no  friends  in  the  village?  "  IMarion  asked. 

"  Not  an  open  friend.  No  one  dares  to  have  much  to  do 
with  me,  for  fear  of  getting  into  trouble,  and  I  dare  not 
speak  unguardedly,  for  the  same  reason.  But  still  I  am 
not  entirely  forsaken,  for  the  people  show  me  great  kind- 
nesses, secretly.     I  have  for  years  kept  my  sorrows  locked 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE    MOHMON    ALTAR.  79 

in  my  own  heart,  and  now  it  seems  sucli  a  comfort  to  have 
one  to  sympathize  with  me,  that  I  can  liardly  refrain  from 
intruding  my  sorrows  upon  you,  and  asking  you  to  help  me 
about  a  matter  that  gives  me  some  hope  for  my  children. 
I  need  a  friend,  and  if  you  will  be  that  friend  to  me,  God 
will  reward  you." 

"  I  will  be  your  friend,  and  will  do  anything  in  my  power 
for  you,  and  in  return  I  hope  you  will  have  perfect  confi- 
dence in  me,  and  tell  me  anything  that  it  will  comfort  j^ou 
to  confide  in  me.  Tell  me  of  your  life  and  troubles  here, 
if  you  will." 

"  First,  let  me  send  my  little  ones  away,  for  God  knows 
they  are  sad  enough,  at  best,  without  hearing  their  mother's 
troubles." 

She  sent  her  children  to  play  in  the  garden,  and  then  re- 
sumed: 

"  I  was  alone  in  the  world,  my  father  and  mother  being 
dead,  and  my  only  brother,  who,  though  very  fond  of  me, 
was  in  California,  and  is  there  still.  Your  aunt  gave  me  a 
home  and  employment  in  her  family,  caring  for  and  teach- 
ing her  little  girl.  She  made  me  very  happy,  treating  me 
more  like  an  elder  daughter  than  like  a  governess.  She  cul- 
tivated my  taste  for  music  and  books,  and  with  her  I  went 
into  the  society  in  which  she  moved.  There  I  met  a  man 
with  whom  I  might  have  been  this  day  living  a  happy  wife. 
I  know  now  that  my  heart  was  not  wholly  my  own,  though 
I  would  not,  at  the  time,  have  admitted  it,  even  to  myself. 
But  Mormonism  was  then  agitated  in  New  York,  and,  con- 
trary to  Mrs.  Wells'  advice,  I  went  with  some  young  friends 
to  their  meetings,  at  first  purely  from  curiosity  concerning 
them. 

"  But  there  was  something  about  their  religion  and  their 
earnestness,  that  fascinated  me,  I  do  not  know  what.  It 
seems  to  me  now  that  I  could  not  have  been  in  my  right  mind. 


80  ELDER    NCRTHFIELD's    HOME;    OR, 

"  I  soon  l)ccame  acquainted  with  Elder  Parker,  a  hand- 
some young  preaclier,  and  my  acquaintance  with  him  grew 
into  an  engagement  to  marry  him,  not,  however,  without  hit; 
most  solemn  promise  never  to  enter  into  i)olygamy. 

*'  When  Mrs.  Wells  knew  this,  she  tried  by  every  means 
in  her  power  to  dissuade  me  from  my  })urpose.  She  told 
me  then  that  the  young  man  of  whom  I  spoke  had  asked 
her  permission  to  pay  his  addresses  to  me.  But  it  was  all 
too  late.  I  was  completely  infatuated  with  my  new  religion 
and  my  new  friend.  I  lell  my  old  friend  and  benefactor  with 
tears,  and  it  seemed  to  me  I  could  hardly  part  with  darling 
little  Lillian  ;  but  I  came  to  Salt  Lake  City  and  married 
Elder  Parker.  He  was  very  devoted  to  me,  and  I  felt  sure, 
as  you  do  now,  that  though  other  homes  were  polluted  by 
polygamy,  mine  never  would  be.  But  by  and  by  he  be- 
gan to  be  out  evenings  a  great  deal,  and  v»'hen  I  asked  him 
where  he  had  been,  he  evaded  re])lying.  He  seemed  to  grow 
6o  cold,  too,  in  his  manner  towards  me,  and,  after  a  while, 
he  never  played  with  our  baby,  or  noticed  him  at  all.  If  he 
cried,  instead  of  taking  him  up  and  amusing  him,  as  he  had 
done,  he  would  take  his  hat  and  leave  the  house.  0 !  the 
sadness  of  my  heart  then,  as  I  feared  I  was  losing  my  hus- 
band's love.  How  I  tried  with  all  my  power  to  win  him 
back  to  me!  How  I  exerted  myself  to  perform  a  thousand 
little  offices  of  love  for  him,  as  only  the  most  devoted  of 
wives  will  do !  But  he  never  knew  it.  He  appreciated  none 
of  my  kindness  and  devotion  to  him.  Still,  I  did  not  dream 
that  he  had  so  soon  forgotten  his  vow  as  to  be  seeking  another 
wife.  The  truth  was  thrust  upon  me  rudely  enough.  Ono 
of  those  creatures,  who,  being  miserable  herself,  wished  to 
see  all  other  women  miserable,  said  to  me  one  day,  '  How- 
soon  is  your  husband's  other  wife  coming  to  live  with  you  ? 
He  has  been  courting  her  quite  long  enough,  I  should  think.' 

*'  I  told  her  she  was  altogether  mistaken,  my  husband  was 


SACRIFICED  ON   THE   MORMON  ALTAR.  81 

not  thinking  of  taking  another  wife.  We  hoth  became  some- 
what excited,  and  ahnost  quarrelled,  and  she  left  me. 

"After  she  had  gone,  1  began  to  think  of  what  had  passed, 
and  O!  the  misery  of  that  hour,  dreading  to  hear  my  hus- 
band's footsteps,  yet  longing  for  him  to  come  and  tell  me 
my  fears  were  groundless.  Hundreds  of  little  actions  and 
circumstances,  before  unnoticed,  recurred  to  me,  all  lending 
to  awaken  my  fears  that  my  visitor  had  spoken  truly. 

'•  Why  had  I  been  so  blinded  before !  And  ere  the  sun  had 
set  I  felt  almost  sure,  as  it  went  down  and  its  brightness 
faded,  tliat  all  the  brightness  of  my  life  had  faded  with  it. 
But  not  quite  sure:  hope  was  not  quite  dead.  At  first  I 
tliought  I  would  demand  of  my  husband  where  he  spent 
his  evenings;  then  I  resolved  to  wait  and  watch;  but  I  did 
not  have  to  wait  long,  for  that  very  evening  he  coldly  and 
cruelly  told  me  that  he  had  decided  to  take  another  wife. 
Then  my  heart  turned  to  stone.  I  felt  as  though  it  were 
another  woman  asking  him  how  he  could  break  his  vow  so 
solemnly  made.  He  answered 'that  that  was  not  now  bind- 
ing upon  him,  as  the  elders,  ajiostles,  and  even  Brigham 
Young,  had  plainly  assured  Inm  that  it  was  his  duty  to  take 
raiother  wife  and  live  up  to  his  privilege,  as  his  circum- 
stances were  good,  and  that  by  so  doing  he  would  exalt  both 
liimself  and  me  in  the  Celestial  Kingdom.  An  earthly  prom- 
ise was  inconsiderable  compared  to  the  duty  of  obeying 
lieavenly  laws.  He  was  only  perforniing  a  duty  which  was 
painful  to  him,  as  Avell  as  to  me,  and  tlie  less  said  about  it 
the  better.  Then  my  anger  rose,  and  never  was  a  woman 
jnore  enraged  than  I.  For  the  moment  I  was  in  a  periect 
frenzy  of  madness.  I  asked  him  wljy,  if  it  was  only  a  ])ain- 
ful  duty  to  take  a  second  wife,  lie  did  not  take  her  at  once 
without  neglecting  his  other  wife  week  irfter  week,  and 
giving  her  only  cold  and  often  unkind  words  and  devoting 
his  entire  time  to  the  new  wife.  I  told  him  that  the  alacrity 
6 


82  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;    OR, 

with  which  he  dressed  himself  with  the  utmost  care,  the 
pleasure  noticeable  in  his  preparation  to  visit  his  betrothed, 
and  his  constant  attendance  upon  her,  showed  that  he  was 
performing  this  painful  duty  with  commendable  cheerful- 
ness. Indeed,  I  said  I  never  knew  him  to  perform  a  painful 
duty  so  cheerfully,  and  I  thought  God  would  reward  him, 
though  not  in  the  way  he  expected.  I  told  him  he  was  a 
base  hypocrite  to  pretend  that  it  was  his  duty.  I  told  him 
that  I  regretted  the  day  I  ever  met  him  ;  I  regretted  the  day 
I  was  born  ;  he  had  ruined  my  happiness  forever.  My  anger 
then  gave  way  to  grief,  and  I  burst  into  tears,  and  kneeling  at 
his  feet,  begged  and  plead  with  him  by  the  memory  of  our 
former  happy  life  and  home,  by  the  love  which  I  knew^  he 
had  borne  me  and  our  boy,  by  all  that  was  sacred  in  family 
associations,  not  to  bhght  my  life.  I  asked  him  to  forgive 
my  angry  words  and  love  me  again  and  me  alone.  I  prom- 
ised him  that  no  earthly  means  should  be  unused  by  me  to 
make  his  life  and  home  happy.  It  seems  as  though  no  man 
could  have  been  cruel  enough  to  refuse  such  pleading.  But 
this  man  was.  He  coldly  told  me  to  get  up  and  not  behave 
in  that  manner ;  such  tragic  scenes  would  have  no  effect  on 
him.  I  then  rose  from  my  knees  and  cursed  him.  I  told 
him  that  I  hated  him  more  than  I  ever  loved  him.  I  said 
I  would  rejoice  to  see  him  suffer  as  he  had  caused  me  to 
suffer.  But  I  told  him  I  would  thwart  his  plans.  He  never 
sliould  have  a  second  wife  w^hile  I  lived,  for  I  never  would 
place  the  hand  of  another  woman  in  his  in  marriage  cere- 
mony, and  I  knew^  that  was  an  essential  part  of  the  service. 
My  reason  was  not  jealousy  then,  for  my  love  had  all  turned 
to  hate,  and  it  was  my  very  hatred  towards  him  that 
prompted  mv  wish  to  give  him  all  the  trouble  in  my  power. 
That  was  very  little,  however,  as  it  proved.  He  then,  pale 
with  wrath,  ordered  me  to  my  room,  and  threatened  that  I 
should  find  myself  in  greater  trouble  if  I  behaved  in  that 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  83 

way.  I  replied  tliat  there  could  be  no  greater  trouble,  that 
death  itself  would  be  happiness  compared  with  it,  but  that  I 
was  glad  that  he  had  suggested  my  leaving  the  room,  as  I  had 
polluted  myself  and  innocent  babe  long  enougli  by  remain- 
ing in  the  room  with  such  a  devil  as  he — yes,  I  used  the 
word;  no  word  could  be  bad  enough  to  express  my  hatred 
of  him — and  catching  my  babe  in  my  arms  I  darted  from 
the  room.  As  I  passed  him,  he  raised  his  arm,  I  think,  to 
strike  me,  but  he  did  not.  I  wished  he  would — I  wished  he 
would  strike  me  dead.  I  went  to  my  room,  and  there  re- 
mained the  most  of  the  time  for  a  week.  I  prepared  my 
husband's  meals  as  usual,  but  never  joined  him  at  the  table. 
He  did  not  see  me  or  my  boy  during  the  week.  He  proba- 
bly never  missed  us,  so  engrossed  was  he  in  the  attentions 
to  his  new  duty.  I  was  sure,  however,  that  he  could  never 
marry  without  first  divorcing  me,  for  I  would  never  give 
him  a  wife,  and  I  knew  he  Avould  dread  the  publicity  and 
talk  a  divorce  would  occasion.  None  but  a  Mormon  woman 
could  know  what  I  suffered.  I  cannot  tell  it.  No  human 
tongue  can  tell.  I  felt  forsaken  by  man  and  by  God.  I 
hated  everybody.  I  hated  God,  and  at  times,  even  my  little 
boy.  I  think  tliere  was  never  a  woman  whose  heart  was 
more  full  of  misery  and  fiendishness  than  mine  was  then. 
I  was  a  Mary  Magdalene,  but  never  have  I,  and  never  can 
I,  by  the  casting  out  of  the  wickedness  within  me,  become 
the  gentle  woman  she  became.  My  heart  was  hardened 
never  to  soften.  I  might  say  I  have  no  heart.  Well,  in 
about  a  week  my  husband  called  me  to  come  down  from 
my  room.  I  went.  He  had  just  come  in  apparently,  and 
was  dressed  iu  a  new  suit  of  fine  broadcloth.  He  presented 
a  very  elegant  appearance.  Beside  him  was  a  young  woman, 
also  well  dressed,  and  very  good-looking.  She,  however,  ap- 
peared nervous  and  timid.  He  presented  me,  then,  to  his 
second  wife,  and  delivered  a  little  speech  regarding  kind- 


84  ELDER   NORTIIFIELD's   HOME  ;    OR, 

ness  in  the  flimil}^  and  the  courtcs}^  due  from  one  "wife  to 
another,  and  ended  b}^  saying  lie  hojjcd  I  Avould  do  my  duty 
as  a  faithful  wife  should  under  the  circumstances.  It  seems 
that  he  dreaded  the  pubhcity  that  he  feared  might  be  given 
to  our  affairs,  and  the  reproach  of  having  a  rebellious  wife, 
and  had  flown  to  Brother  Brigham  for  counsel.  He  was 
then  in  good  favor  with  Brigham,  and  ic  was  arranged  the 
ceremony  should  be  performed  without  my  assistance,  on 
the  plea  that  as  I  had  so  wantonly  disgraced  my  religion 
and  marriage  covenant,  I  was  no  longer  worthy  to  be  con- 
sidered Elder  Parker's  wife,  and  that  he  sliould  then  for  the 
time  being  be  considered  a  single  man  and  be  married  as 
one.  But  if  I  afterwards  came  to  terms  and  submission,  as 
no  doul)t  I  would  when  I  found  resistance  useless,  then  I 
was  to  be  reinstated  in  my  position  as  first  wife,  and  thus 
all  disagreeable  remarks  and  notoriety  would  be  avoided. 
Brigham  was  very  accommodating  towards  my  husband, 
and  were  it  generally  known,  no  doubt  he  would  have  gotten 
himself  into  trouble,  for  many  women  would  willingly  be 
temporarily  divorced  to  avoid  the  terrible  ordeal  of  giving 
her  husband  another  wife. 

"  '  Yes,'  I  said,  '  I  will  do  my  duty  towards  her  and  towards 
you,  too.  I  will  send  you  where  you  belong  and  will  pre- 
vent her  from  ever  feeling  the  misery  I  feel  now.  If  I  had 
seen  you  die  when  I  loved  you  and  you  loved  me,  that  would 
have  been  no  trouble.  O,  yes,  I  will  be  good  to  her,'  and  I 
shudder  to  tell  it,  but  wliile  sjieaking  I  had  seized  a  lo:ided 
revolver,  which  my  husband  kept  in  a  corner  of  an  old  secre- 
tary near  me,  and  was  raising  it  to  aim  at  his  liead,  v/hen  I 
seemed  to  realize  what  I  was  doing  and  I  threw  it  on  the 
floor,  and  was  darting  from  tiie  room,  wlien  he  seized  me  and 
dragged  me  to  my  room,  hurting  and  bruising  me  severely. 
He  locked  me  in  with  my  child.  Days  passed,  and  I  scarcely 
touched  food  or  drink.     A  scanty  allowance  of  bread  and 


BACFvIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  85 

water  was  doled  out  to  ns  daily,  but  my  babe  ate  most  of 
it,  for  I  could  not  eat.  God  only  knows  wby  or  bow  I  was 
again  kept  from  a  terrible  crime.  I  could  not  bear,  as  my 
beautiful  boy  played  around  me  in  bis  cbildisb  innocence, 
or  slept  in  my  arms  so  pure  and  sweet,  to  tbink  tbat  he 
would  grow  up  to  break  some  woman's  heart — to  change, 
perhaps,  from  a  kind,  honorable  man  to  a  man  like  what 
his  father  now  was. 

"  I  wanted  always  to  think  of  him  as  pure  and  innocent 
as  he  Avas  then  ;  I  could  not  if  he  grew  up.  Now,  if  he  died, 
God  would  take  him,  and  he  would  eternally  be  pure  and 
free  from  sin  and  misery. 

"  I  had  a  bottle  of  laudanum  in  my  room,  and  was  almost 
irresistibly  filled  witli  an  impulse  to  give  him  one  last,  long, 
eternal  sleep.  But  God,  if  he  had  forsaken  me,  had  not  for- 
saken my  boy,  and  something  stayed  my  hand.  And  lest 
I  should  yield  to  temptation,  I  threw  the  bottle  from  my 
window,  and  saw  it  shivered  to  atoms  on  tlie  stones  below'." 

Here  the  speaker  paused  and  pressed  her  hands  to  her 
burning  brow.  Then  she  pressed  one  hand  to  her  heart,  and 
Marion  feared  she  would  faint. 

"  My  poor  friend,"  she  said,  "  don't  tell  me  any  more.  It 
is  hurting  you." 

"0,  don't  stop  me!  don't  stop  me!"  she  cried.  "You 
don't  know  what  you  do.  I  must  tell  all.  I  WMst  tell  it  all 
for  their  sakes,"  as  she  pointed  towards  the  garden,  where 
her  children  had  gone.  "  Have  you  seen  a  large  brick  house 
on  the  side  of  one  of  the  mountains,  just  out  of  the  city?  " 

Marion  replied  affirmatively. 

"  Do  you  know  what  that  building  is  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Marion,  "  1  do  not." 

"  Then  I  will  tell  you,  for  I  know.  It  is  where  they  carry 
the  women  when  their  ndseries,  and  sorrows,  and  unuttcr- 
a.ble  agony  of  mind  robs  them  of  their  reason,     "\^^hen  Brig- 


86  ELDER  noktiifield's  homz  ;  OH, 

ham  Young,  by  inculcating  a  system  and  religion  that  he 
says  comes  from  God  into  the  minds  of  his  dupes,  has  ruined 
the  lives,  the  hopes,  the  reasons  of  his  subjects,  one  by  one, 
he  kindly  provides  a  place  where  they  can  be  cared  for,  away 
from  the  rest  of  mankind,  where  they  will  cease  to  annoy 
their  unfortunate  friends. 

"His  generosity  is  vSo  great  that  the  insane  asylum  is  free 
to  all,  and  its  annual  expenses  are  met  by  tithing  the  peo- 
ple to  an  amount  far  greater  than  its  expenses.  Any  surplus, 
however,  goes  to  the  Church,  and  as  Brigham  is  the  Church, 
you  see  he  is  very  generous. 

"Well,  after  I  saw^  the  laudanum  bottle  in  a  thousand 
pieces,  I  remember  nothing  more  till  I  found  myself  inside 
that  building.  When  you  come  there  1  will  take  you  into 
my  room,  for  I  shall  go  there  again,  I  think,  before  long. 
You  will  come,  too,  though  not  for  man}*  years ;  but  you  arc 
a  Mormon's  wife,  you  know." 

Marion  was  now  thoroughly  frightened  at  the  woman's 
words  and  manner,  and  tried  to  quiet  her,  asking  her  to 
finish  her  story  at  some  other  time,  but  she  would  not  be 
interrupted,  and  went  on. 

'•  They  were  kind  to  me  there,  and  after  a  while  I  realized 
that  my  baby  was  not  with  me.  I  asked  for  him,  and  they 
promised  that  next  day  he  should  be  brought  to  me.  And 
he  was,  but  where  he  had  been  meantime  I  did  not  know, 
and  do  not  to  this  day,  nor  how  long  I  had  been  there.  I 
think,  however,  not  many  weeks.  The  keepers  are  very  care- 
less there  about  keeping  doors  and  gates  locked,  and  one 
evening  I  wandered  out  unnoticed,  and  walked  on  and  on 
■with  my  boy,  till  I  came  to  this  place.  A  kind  man,  now 
moved  away  from  here,  befriended  me  and  took  me  into  his 
house,  and  his  wife  cared  for  me  and  nursed  me  through  a 
sickness,  during  which  I  came  near  to  death's  door.  When 
my  strength  began  to  come  back  to  me,  they  came  and  laid 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE  MORMON   ALTAR.  87 

in  my  arms  my  little  babe — my  Edith.  From  that  time  I 
have  lived  for  my  children's  sake,  and  I  have  hope  for  them. 
When  I  recovered  I  took  this  cottage,  or  hut,  as  it  is,  in  com- 
parison to  my  former  home,  and  the  people  of  the  village 
have  very  kindly  given  me  employment  enough  to  barely 
support  myself  and  children.  They  can  do  no  more,  for 
they  are  poor  themselves ;  besides  they  fear  the  wrath  of 
Brigham  Young.  Many  of  these  women  are  kind  and  piti- 
ful to  me  in  secret,  but  their  husbands  warn  them  against 
me,  as  I  am  regarded  a  rebellious  woman.  I  do  not,  or, 
rather,  have  not  cared  what  I  did  or  said  to  influence  any 
one,  Mormon  or  Gentile,  against  Mormonism,  and  they  fear 
my  influence  somewhat,  poor  as  I  am.  But  I  must  say  that 
I  have  opened  my  door  in  the  morning  and  there  found  a 
pile  of  wood  which  I  know  no  woman  brought.  I  have 
found  my  house  repaired,  and  by  no  woman's  hands,  on  re- 
turning from  a  day's  work  out.  I  have  found  food  and  warm 
garments  for  my  children  on  my  doorsteps,  and  tracks  of 
large  feet  in  the  snow  near  the  door.  I  have  been  overpaid 
repeatedly  for  work  by  the  Mormon  men.  Yes,  thank  God, 
there  are  some  whose  natural  humanity  and  kindness  of 
heart  even  Mormonism  has  not  destroyed.  I  hate  to  think 
of  the  time  when  these  men  will  have  lost  all  the  better  part 
of  their  natures. 

"  But  I  must  hasten  with  my  story.  The  authorities  at 
the  asylum  supposed  I  had  returned  to  my  home,  but  did 
not  trouble  themselves  to  ascertain  positively.  So  Elder 
Parker  did  not  know  I  had  left  the  asylum  till  my  babe  was 
several  weeks  old  and  I  was  established  in  my  new  home, 
and  then  he  did  not  trouble  himself  to  inflict  his  presence 
upon  me,  for  he  was  no  doubt  devoting  all  his  time  and  at- 
tention to  his  new  wife,  as  he  had  formerly  be5n  devoted 
and  kind  to  me. 

"  At  length,  however,  he  came  and  informed  me  that  I 


88  ELDER   NORTRFIELD's   ROME;   OR, 

was  practically  divorced  from  him,  wliich  I  very  well  knew. 
My  own  course  had  caused  this  result,  as  my  conduct  was 
bevond  forgiveness.  He  soon  left  mo,  and  I  have  scarcely 
seen  liim  since  ;  but  I  was  told  that  he  soon  took  still  another 
wife,  and  then  I  wondered  how  mucli  that  pale-faced,  fright- 
ened girl  suffered.  Not  as  I  did,  I  feel  sure,  for  she  was  not 
the  first  wife. 

''  I  have  of  late  lived  in  constant  fear  and  apprehension 
of  being  robbed  of  my  cliildren.  While  Elder  Parker  was 
in  England,  I  breathed  more  freely  ;  I  have  not  been  so 
guarded  as  I  otherwise  should  have  been,  and  I  did  not 
know  that  he  had  returned  until  one  day,  a  few  weeks  ago, 
he  came  here,  and  I  nearly  fainted  as  I  saw  him  look  at  my 
Edith,  and  stroke  and  caress  her  curly  hair.  He  then  threat- 
ened that  unless  I  ceased  to  say  such  wicked  things  against 
the  Mormon  Church,  he  w^ould  punish  me  by  taking  away 
my  children.  He  had  Brigham  Young's  advice  for  so  doing. 
I  was  terribly  frightened,  but  I  have  since  the  day  I  first 
took  my  little  girl  in  my  arms,  resolved  that  they  should 
not  grow  up  Mormons.  My  girl  must  never  suffer  as  I  have, 
my  boy  must  never  cause  the  anguish  his  father  has  caused. 
The  friends  who  took  me  in,  in  my  trouble,  are  still  my 
friends,  though  many  miles  from  here.  They  have  aposta- 
tized and  are  Gentiles  now,  and  live  in  the  southern  part  of 
the  State.  They  have  promised  to  take  my  children  and 
keep  them  till  some  emigrant  parties  shall  pass  through 
their  place,  and  they  can  send  them  to  my  brother  in  Cali- 
fornia. I  have  heard  from  him  through  them,  and  he  re- 
quests me  to  send  them  to  him,  and  he  will  rear  and  educate 
them  with  his  own  children.  He  also  earnestly  requests 
me  to  come,  too,  but  that  cannot  be.  All  that  I  seek  now  is 
my  children's  safety  from  this  hot-bed  of  iniquity  and  misery. 
Some  day  they  will  carry  me  back  again  to  that  house  on 
the  mountain-side,  and  then  my  children  will  come  to  you; 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MOUMON   ALTAR.  89 

thoy  know  the  way  into  the  city ;  and  you  will  in  some  way 
see  tliat  they  are  conveyed  to  my  friend,  whose  address  I 
will  give  you.     Will  you— will  you  do  this  for  me?  " 

And  the  woman  paused,  and  her  eager  eyes  searched 
Marion's  face  for  an  answer. 

''  I  will  with  all  my  heart,"  said  IMarion. 

*'And  you  must  do  it  as  secretly  as  possible,  lest  their  father 
learn  of  it  and  prevent  it." 

IMarion  assured  her  she  would  fulfil  her  trust  to  the  best 
of  her  ability. 

"  I  do  not  think,"  said  the  mother,  "  that  Elder  Parker 
cares  enough  for  the  children  to  wish  for  them,  as  his  family 
is  already  so  large.  I  only  fear  that  he  will  take  them  to 
prevent  their  ever  going  to  the  Gentile  world.  Mormons 
hate  apostates  with  a  dreadful  hatred,  and  there  has  been  a 
time  when  to  apostatize  was  to  risk  one's  life.  There  is  too 
much  to  be  told  of  Mormon  life  by  an  apostate  Mormon  to 
allow  him  to  enter  the  Gentile  world,  and  only  Elder  Parker's 
almost  perfect  indhference  to  me  and  my  children  gives  mo 
liope  that  they  will  escape  without  his  knowledge.  I  have 
trained  them  up  to  hate  Mormonism,  and  have  tried  to  givo 
them  all  the  knowledge  of  the  ways  of  the  Gentile  world  that 
I  could,  but  that  is  of  no  avail  if  they  remain  here.  Edith 
v;ill  be  forced  to  marry,  and  Francis  will  grow  up  a  Mormon." 

"  But,"  said  Marion,  "since  your  brother  has  so  kindly  of- 
fered you  a  home  with  him,  why  do  you  not  go  with  your 
children  and  live  the  rest  of  your  life  peacefully?  Why  stay 
here  and  be  so  miserable?  Or,  if  you  can  find  a  way  to  go 
to  New  York,  I  know  my  aunt  will  receive  you  and  yours 
with  joy.  She  would  only  be  too  happy  to  save  you  from 
this  life,  and  have  you  with  her  again.  Won't  you  let  me 
vrrite  to  her  about  you?  " 

"  No !  no !  I  will  not !  You  must  not  think  of  escape  for 
me.    I  do  not  want  to  enter  the  Gentile  world  again.    It 


90  ELDER  nortiifield's  noME ;  OR, 

would  only  make  me  more  miserable.  There  is  no  happi- 
ness for  me  anywhere  in  this  world  or  in  the  next.  Why  I 
am  a  murderer,  did  you  know  it?  I  wanted  to  take  two 
lives,  and  nearly  did.  I  am  a  murderer  at  heart.  He  has 
made  me  one.  I  was  good  once.  I  was  kind  once.  I 
never  spoke  an  unkind  word  to  him  till — till — I  told  you 
when.  No,  such  a  woman  as  I  must  stay  where  misery  is 
at  home.  My  brother  must  never  see  the  wreck  his  sister  is, 
and  I  would  not  go  back  such  as  I  am  now  to  burden  your 
aunt  after  leaving  her  as  I  did.  Besides,  I  could  not  escape 
and  my  children,  too.  He  would  find  it  out  if  I  attempted 
so  much,  and  we  should  all  be  brought  back.  But  if  any- 
thing should  happen  to  me,  he  very  likely  would  not  know 
it;  and  if  he  did  and  were  told  that  friends  had  taken  the 
children,  I  think  he  would  not  interfere  or  burden  himself 
with  their  support.  I  shall  not  be  here  long.  I  may  be  in 
the  asylum ;  I  may  be  in  a  narrower  asylum.  But  wher- 
ever I  am,  if  you  know,  don't  let  him  know.  I  don't  like 
the  way  he  looked  at  Edith.  I  am  troubled  with  fear  that 
if  the  children  remain  here  long  he  may  get  them  away 
from  me  and  then  they  will  be  lost.  I  had  rather  see  them 
dead.  Yes,  dead  !"  she  cried  wildly,  and  Marion  was  again 
frightened  at  the  gleam  in  her  eye  and  the  wild  tones  of  her 
voice.  At  last  her  mind  seemed  to  be  relieved,  as  she  had 
told  her  story,  and  as  Marion  assured  her  that  she  would 
fulfil  her  request,  she  seemed  satisfied  and  sank  back  into 
her  chair  exhauisted  by  her  excitement.  Marion  then  told 
her  of  Elder  Parker's  last  wife,  of  whom  she  was  ignorant, 
and  gradually  led  the  conversation  to  other  subjects,  telling 
her  of  all  that  had  happened  in  the  city  recently  that  she 
thought  would  interest  her.  Marion  secretly  resolved  to 
write  to  her  aunt,  informing  her  of  her  friend's  circum- 
stances and  state  of  mind,  that  she  might  persuade  her  to 
leave  Utah. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  91 

She  did  not  wonder  now  at  her  aunt's  horror  of  the  Mor- 
mons. She  felt  alarmed  at  the  wildness  of  the  woman's 
manner  during  her  story ;  and  then  how  she  longed  for  the 
means  to  make  her  and  her  children  more  comfortable,  but 
her  husband's  income  would  scarcely  suppl}^  their  own 
wants.  She  could  only  give  her  kind  words  and  sympathy, 
and  amusement  to  her  children  by  telling  them  story  after 
story,  till  their  wan  faces  glowed  with  interest  and  amuse- 
ment. But  these  attentions  were  worth  more  than  money, 
and  the  mother  received  that  for  which  she  hungered — as 
she  had  never  hungered  for  bodily  food — heartfelt  sympa- 
thy and  promise  of  help  in  the  fulfilment  of  the  greatest 
wish  of  her  heart.  The  few  hours  still  left  before  her  de- 
parture passed  rapidly,  INlarion  striving  by  every  means  in 
her  power  to  interest  and  please  her  hostess.  The  chil- 
dren showed  her  their  little  gardens,  and  were  delighted  with 
the  interest  she  took  in  them,  and  altogether,  that  day  was 
remembered  by  mother  and  children  as  an  oasis  in  the 
desert  of  their  lives. 

When  Marion  and  her  husband  sat  down  that  evening 
for  their  usual  chat,  she  rehearsed  the  events  of  the  day  and 
repeated  the  story  she  had  heard,  and  reminded  him  of 
what  he  had  said  in  New  York  about  there  being  two  sides 
to  the  woman's  story.  But  he  could  not  believe  that  Elder 
Parker  would  ever  treat  a  wife  so  cruelly,  and  thought  her 
mind  was  in  such  a  disordered  state  that  she  did  not  know 
what  she  said.  Marion  was  grieved  to  find  that  he  disap- 
proved of  the  part  she  had  promised  to  take  in  getting  the 
children  away  from  Mormonism.  But  as  the  scheme  was 
probably  but  a  fancy  of  a  disordered  mind,  and  Marion  was 
so  anxious  about  it,  he  kindly  promised  at  least  not  to  in- 
terfere if  the  opportunity  ever  presented  itself,  which  he  did 
not  expect. 


92  ELDER   NORTIIFIELD's   HOME;   OH, 


CHAPTER   VI. 

MARIOX  sa^  so  many  children  of  all  sizes  pla3ung  about 
the  streets  at  all  hours  of  the  day  that  she  at  last  in- 
quired why  they  were  not  at  scliool  and  where  the  school 
buildings  were.  She  had  not  seen  one  there.  She  was  told 
that  there  were  no  schools;  that  Brother  Brigham  did  not 
approve  of  educating  their  children.  They  were  to  be  un- 
like the  world's  people — not  seeking  worldly  wisdom,  but 
wisdom  from  on  liigh.  It  was  sufficient  for  the  girls  to  be 
taught  reading,  writing,  housework,  and  needlework,  and 
the  boys  sliould  go  so  far  as  to  learn  a  little  arithmetic.  The 
parents  were  expected  to  teach  tliem,  but  especially  to  in- 
struct them  in  the  religion  of  the  Church.  Schools  had  been 
attem]ited,  but  had  been  broken  up  or  given  up,  because  tlie 
pnrents  were  counselled  to  keep  their  children  at  ]H)m3. 
Education  was  a  stepping-stone  to  apostasy.  The  leaders 
knew  this,  and  did  not  mc  ;n  that  th's  stepping-stone  should 
be  furnished  the  people.  Tlie  theatre,  however,  which  was  a 
much-patronized  institution,  was  a  source  of  educali:)n  in 
itself  to  the  people.  For  there  scarcely  any  but  Gentile 
pla3"S  were  acted,  and  on  the  stage  was  depicted  Gentile  life, 
domestic,  social,  and  ])ublic,  which  liad  its  charms  to  those 
wljo  knew  personally  nothing  but  Mormon  life,  and  doubly 
BO  to  those  who  had  come  from  homes  pure  and  sacred  to 
one  wife  and  mother  to  homes  where  j^olygamy  reigned. 
The  theatre,  if  a  ])leasure  to  the  Gentile  world,  was  to  the 
Mormon  world  like  a  glimpse  into  some  far-off  land,  which 
to  many  seemed  like  a  paradise,  to  others  like  the  home  of 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  93 

their  earlier  days,  and  to  still  others  it  had  no  meanii'ig, 
save  the  amusciiicnt  of  the  hour. 

The  theatre  fostered  a  taste  for  reading  on  the  part  of  the 
young,  but  that  taste  could  not  be  gratified,  for  there  were 
no  books  to  be  had,  save  a  few  concerning  the  doctrines, 
rules,  etc.,  of  the  church.  If  books  were  brought  in  by  Gen- 
tiles, the  authorities  suppressed  their  reading,  and  in  some 
cases  even  destroyed  the  books.  Any  one  seeking  an  edu- 
cation was  sneered  at  and  ridiculed  ;  in  fact,  education  was 
very  unpopular. 

But  in  spite  of  all  this,  Marion  conceived  the  idea  of 
gathering  as  many  children  together  as  she  could  for  tlio 
2:)ur]jose  of  a  school.  She  meant  to  be  very  wary  fJiout  it, 
and  began  by  having  them  come  to  her  two  or  three  hours 
each  day  for  the  purpose  of  learning  to  sing.  She  was 
actuated  by  a  desire  to  benefit  the  children,  whom  she  felt 
should  not  be  left  to  spend  their  time  in  the  streets  learning 
mischief  and  viciousness,  by  the  hope  of  increasing  their 
income,  if  ever  so  little,  and  by  her  love  of  teacliing. 

She  readily  obtained  Elder  Northfield's  consent  to  her  pro- 
ject, and  easily  found  twenty-five  children  who  were  glad  to 
come  and  whose  parents  were  glad  to  send  them  to  her. 
Little  Johnnie  Mordaunt  was  one  of  the  number,  and  r.er 
young  neighbor,  Ella  Atwood,  another.  Eila  by  this  time 
had  become  a  frequent  visitor  and  often  came  with  "  father's 
other  wife's  baby.''  IMarion  found  her  young  flock  composed 
of  a  great  variety  in  respect  to  size,  disposition,  cul.ure,  and 
natural  refinement.  Some  were  almost  unmanageable  in  the 
exuberance  of  tlieir  delight;  but  through  the  influence  of 
story-telling  and  singing,  sne  was  ab.e  to  quiet  them  all  and 
send  them  home  the  first  day  very  much  interested  in  the 
new  institution  and  ready  to  sound  the  praises  of  their  friend 
and  teacher. 

The  school  grew  and  progressed,  until  her  little  home  was 


94  ELDER    XOnTIIFIELD's    HOME  ;    OR, 

full  to  overflowing,  and  she  worked  with  all  her  migl;t  to 
teach  tliem  what  she  could.  No  children  were  ever  more  eager 
to  learn  than  they.  She  felt  tliat  she  was  rewarded  for  her 
work  by  the  pleasure  of  hearing  them  sing,  although  rude 
and  inharmonious  voices  were  mingled  with  the  clear  and 
sweet  tones  of  others.  They  were  also  slowly  learning  to 
read,  and  she  gave  them  as  much  general  information  as  she 
could  and  dared.  ]\Iarion  took  a  great  deal  ol  jjleasure  in 
her  new  enterprise,  and  soon  loved  many  of  her  pupils  very 
much.  She  had  begun  to  feel  quite  secure  in  being  un- 
molested by  the  authorities,  when  one  day  her  husband  re- 
turned and  told  her  that  he  had  been  visited  that  day  by 
Brigham  Young  and  counselled  to  put  an  end  to  the  school 
that  was  in  progress  at  his  house.  Said  Elder  Northfield, 
"  He  told  me  that  he  had  heard  my  wife  was  very  weak  in 
the  faith,  and  asked  me  if  it  were  so.  I  could  only  reply 
that  it  was.  Then  he  said,  '  I  am  very  sorry  for  your  sake, 
and  for  hers,  too ;  but  she  must  stop  that  school.  We  want 
no  v;oman  with  Gentile  faith  or  inclinations  teaching  our 
children.  They  take  naturally  enough  to  the  ways  of  the 
world  without  help  in  that  direction.'  He  seemed  a  good 
deal  vexed  with  me  for  allowing  you  to  teach  the  children, 
knowing  as  I  did  that  ycu  were  not  a  good  Mormon.  I  am 
very  sorry,  my  dear,  for  I  see  that  you  have  taken  so  much 
pleasure  in  it,  and  I  really  think  it  a  good  thing  for  the 
children;  but  Brother  Brigham  does  not  know  what  you 
may  be  teaching  them,  and  there  is  nothing  to  do  but  to 
send  your  children  home  when  they  come  to-morrow,  and 
really,  Marion,  I  think  it  is  for  your  good  to  do  so,  for  I  fear 
you  have  overtaxed  yourself.  You  have  worked  very  Lard 
—too  hard  for  your  strength,  I  fear." 

Marion  was  very  indignant  and  very  much  disappointed, 
but,  as  her  husband  had  said,  tliCre  was  nothing  for  her  to 
do  but  to  submit.     So  very  sadly  she  parted  with  her  little 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  95 

flock  the  next  da}^  and  some  of  the  little  ones  cried  bitterly 
because  they  could  not  come  to  school  any  more.  But  she 
had  made  warm  friends  for  herself  among  the  little  folks, 
and  they  never  forgot  her  or  ceased  to  love  her. 

Soon  after  the  closing  of  the  school  Ella  Atwood  came  run- 
ning into  Marion's  house,  exclaiming,  "  O,  Mrs.  Northfield ! 
Please  do  come  home  with  me ;  Nettie  is  dying !"  Mrs.  North- 
field  had  become  acquainted  by  this  time  with  Mrs.  Atwood 
and  her  daughter  Nettie,  who  had  been  wasting  away  with 
consumption.  Both  mother  and  daughter  were  women  of 
refinement,  and  their  companionship  had  become  a  pleasure 
to  Marion.  She  made  haste  to  return  with  Ella  to  the  sor- 
rowing home.  There  the  second  wile  by  every  means  in  her 
poweV  was  kindly  assisting  the  first  in  her  eObrts  for  the 
dying  sufferer's  comfort,  and  the  first  wife's  child  was  caring 
for  the  second  wife's  baby.  Kindness  and  good-will  reigned 
tliere ;  but  it  was  not  a  result  of  Mormonism — it  was  in  spite 
of  it.  There  are  noble  instincts  and  pure  emotions  whose 
brightness  cannot  be  obscured  by  even  that  dark  cloud — 
polygamy. 

Marion  pressed  her  lips  to  the  marble  forehead  of  the 
dying  girl,  and  the  eyes  opened  with  an  eager,  expectant 
look.  They  feared  she  would  not  speak  again,  but  she  said, 
"I  thought  he  had  come.  He  will  come.  I  will  wait  for- 
him."  She  closed  her  eyes  again.  Her  breathing  became 
more  labored.  There  was  a  sound  of  wheels  at  the  door  and 
a  strong  young  man,  with  a  look  of  remorse  and  grief  on  iiis 
face,  entered,  and  kneeling  by  the  bedside,  took  one  emaci- 
ated hand  in  his,  pressed  it  gently  to  his  lips,  and  exclaimed : 
"0  God!  I  have  killed  her!"  She  opened  her  eyes  and 
smiled.  She  beamed  on  him  a  look  of  unutterable- love  and 
murmured  :  "  I  knew  you  would  come;  I  waited  for  you." 

"0,  Nettie,  my  darling,  my  own  dear  wife!     Would  to 
God  I  dared  ask  you  to  forgive  me !     I  did  not  mean  to  be 


96  ELDER   T-TORTHFIELD's   HOME  ;   OR, 

cruel  to  you.  I  did  not  know  wliat  I  Vv'a3  doing.  I  lovo 
you  and  you  alone.  I  was  o:dy  infatuated  for  a  time  with 
the  other  '' — ;he  did  not  say  wife).  "  Nettie,  my  sweet  wife, 
can  you  forgive  me?" 

Slu-  reached  up  her  frail  arms,  and,  clasping  them 
around  his  neck,  drew  his  face  down  to  liers.  Tnen  her 
arms  dropped— and  Nettie  was  dead.  But  that  her  last 
moments  liad  been  happy  ones  there  could  be  no  doubt,  for 
0.1  her  face  was  a  look  of  perfect  peace,  and  her  lips  wero 
almost  wreathed  with  a  smile. 

There  came  a  time  when  Marion  could  no  longer  go  to 
the  homes  of  sorrow  and  mourning,  carrying  pity  and  com- 
fort with  her — a  time  when  her  little  friends,  who  came  often 
to  see  lier,  were  sent  quietly  away — when  the  rooms  of  her 
cottage  were  darkened,  and  the  footsteps  about  the  houso 
were  light  and  voices  soft  and  low.  There  came  to  that 
humble,  but  happy  home,  a  new  light,  a  new  care,  a  new 
and  strong  tie,  to  bind  yet  firmer  the  hearts  of  husband  and 
"wife.  And  as  the  young  mother  beheld  her  baby  boy,  a 
new  tenderness  came  into  her  heart,  a  new  joy  into  her  life, 
and  to  the  father  liis  home  became  more  sacred,  more  dear 
for  the  new  treasure  it  contained. 

Marion's  life  in  Salt  Lake  City  had  not  been  the  happy 
one  she  had  pictured  for  herself,  for  her  surroundings  had 
been  such  as  to  cause  great  sadness  through  her  sympathy 
for  the  sorrows  of  oth.ers.  That  such  an  evil  should  exist 
under  the  name  of  religion  ;  that  the  Government  would 
]>crmit  a  system  so  wicked  to  enslave  tlie  minds  of  men  and 
blight  the  happircss  of  women,  and  more  personally  tliat 
her  husband  should  still  be  blinded  by  a  belief  in  a  religion 
which  had  proved  itself  so  utterly  devoid  of  morality  and 
humanity— these  tilings  had  given  J^Iarion  many  a  bitter 
thought,  many  a  heartache.  She  longed  that  the  scales 
might  fall  from  her  husband's  eyes,  and  that  he  might  see 


SACRIFICED    ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  97 

as  she  did  the  utter  depravity  of  the  religion  she  had  once 
loved  so  dearly  ;  then  together  they  might  leave  this  people 
and  once  more  live  in  the  Gentile  world.  Her  former  lies 
of  friendship  might  be  renewed,  and  the  society  of  her  sister 
again  become  a  pleasure  to  her.  But  of  all  tins  she  had  no 
hope.  Thoughts  and  longings  for  it  were  all  she  indulged 
herself. 

But  now  her  mind  and  heart  were  filled  by  her  care  for 
her  little  son  Forest.  Her  home,  with  its  priceless  treasure, 
was  the  centre  of  her  ambition.  There  she  forgot  the  out- 
side world,  with  its  sorrows  and  disturbances,  and  lived  in 
a  little  world  of  her  own.  She  became  much  happier  than 
before  her  babe  was  born,  and  their  comfort  and  happiness 
was  increased  still  more  by  on  improvement  in  their  pecu- 
niary circumstances.  Elder  Northfield  went  into  business 
for  himself  in  the  city  and  succeeded  even  beyond  his  hopes. 
In  later  times  Marion  often  accused  herself  of  selfishness  at 
that  time  in  driving  every  unpleasant  thought  from  her  and 
giving  herself  up  so  entirely  to  the  enjoyment  of  her  own 
blessings  to  the  exclusion  of  everything  else. 

But  one  unselfish  mission  was  not  entirely  excluded— that 
was,  the  fulfilment  of  her  promise,  if  ever  it  became  neces- 
sary, to  the  forsaken  Mrs.  Parker,  with  regard  to  her  chil- 
dren. It  was  far  from  her  thoughts,  however,  one  day,  when 
she  found  at  her  door  Francis  and  Edith  Parker,  more  thin 
and  haggard  than  ever,  and  wdth  a  somewhat  ragged,  ne- 
glected appearance,  wliich  had  not  been  noticeable  when  she 
saw  them  before.  She  was  shocked  and  frightened  at  sight 
of  them,  but  gave  them  a  warm  welcome,  and  proceeded  to 
open  one  of  two  letters,  which  the  boy  handed  her,  and  read 
the  following : 

"  My  Dear  Kind  Friend  :— I  cannot  live  any  longer.    I 
am  not  going  to  the  house  on  the  mountain  side.    It  is  too 
7 


large.  I  want  rest.  I  want  my  children  safe.  I  have  tried 
to  think  and  plan  what  you  shall  do  with  them,  and  how 
you  will  save  them.  I  know  you  will  save  them  from  Mor- 
monism  somehow,  for  you  have  promised  m,e,  but  I  have 
forgotten  how.  My  memory  is  gone.  But  it  will  not  be  in 
the  way  I  save  myself,  I  know.  I  have  been  sick,  but  I  am 
going  to  take  some  medicine  that  will  cure  me.  I  shall  not 
be  a  Mormon  woman  then.  I  shall  not  be  here,  but  0 ! 
don't  let  him  know  I  am  gone.  I  don't  know  where  I  shall 
go,  or  I  would  tell  you ;  but  God  bless  you  and  the  children, 
and  some  time,  when  Edith  is  a  happy  woman  and  Francis 
a  noble  man,  I  will  go  and  see  them  and  know  what  you 
have  done  for  them  and  me.  I  wanted  to  write  something 
else,  but  I  can't  think  what  it  was.  My  memory  is  poor. 
Perhaps  I  will  write  again.  The  children  will  bring  it  to 
you.     Now  good-bye." 

There  was  no  name  signed,  but  Marion  well  knew  who  the 
writer  was,  and  realized  the  awfulness  of  its  import.  She 
knew  the  woman's  reason  had  quite  departed,  and  that  she 
would,  if  not  prevented,  put  an  end  to  her  life.  She  trem- 
bled, but  controlled  herself  enough  to  question  the  children. 
She  asked  what  their  mother  had  said  to  them  as  they  came 
away. 

They  answered  that  she  had  told  them  to  carry  her  letter 
to  Mrs.  Northfield,  in  the  city  ;  that  she  bid  them  good-bye 
over  and  over  again,  and  kissed  them  and  cried  over  them, 
and  even  called  them  back  once  to  put  her  arms  tight  around 
them  both,  so  that  they  could  hardly  breathe,  and  then  she 
had  said,  "God  bless  and  keep  my  darlings,''  and  they  came 
away  frightened.  They  thought  their  mother  was  sick,  and 
had  sent  for  Mrs.  Northfield  to  come  to  her. 

She  then  asked  them  about  the  other  letter,  which  she 
now  opened. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    MORMON   ALTAR.  99 

The  boy  said  a  few  weeks  ago  she  had  told  him  if  ever  he 
went  into  the  city  he  must  take  that  letter  to  Mrs.  North- 
field,  for  she  wanted  it,  and  as  he  knew  where  she  kept  it, 
he  took  it,  put  it  in  his  pocket,  and  brought  it  with  him. 
He  did  not  know  what  it  was. 

It  proved  to  be  a  letter  from  the  apostate  friend  in  Southern 
Utah,  urging  her  to  come  to  him,  with  her  children,  as  secretly 
as  possible,  that  he  might  send  them  all  to  her  brother  in 
California.  It  was  expected  that  in  a  few  weeks  an  emigrant 
party  would  pass  through  the  place,  travelling  towards  the 
West,  and  he  wished  her  to  join  that  party.  He  spoke  of 
her  brother's  kindness  and  love  for  her,  and  of  his  probable 
disappointment  if  she  did  not  avail  herself  of  this  means 
of  escape.  Enclosed  in  this  was  a  letter  from  the  brother  to 
his  sister,  which  proved  the  sincerity  of  all  that  the  former 
had  written. 

Marion  felt  that  something  must  be  done  immediately. 
She  told  the  children  to  remain  in  the  house,  and  she  would 
see  about  caring  for  their  mother.  She  bade  them  on  no 
account  to  leave  the  house  or  to  be  seen  at  the  windows. 
She  provided  them  with  food  and  drink,  and  bade  them 
not  to  be  frightened  if  she  did  not  return  to  them  that 
night. 

Wonderingly,  they  promised  obedience,  and  Marion  left 
them,  taking  her  babe  with  her.  She  proceeded  immedi- 
ately to  her  husband's  place  of  business,  told  him  what  had 
occurred,  and  placed  in  his  hands  the  letters  the  children 
had  brought.  He  was  forced  now  to  admit  that  the  story— 
at  least  a  part  of  it— that  the  unfortunate  woman  had  told 
his  wife  was  not  the  fancy  of  a  disordered  brain,  and  that 
the  Gentile  friend  and  brother  in  California  were  realities. 
But  the  children  at  his  house— children  of  a  Mormon  elder  I 
his  wife  about  to  conceal  their  whereabouts  from  their  father, 
about  to  send  them  privately  to  the  Gentile  world  !  His  wife 


100  ELDEll    NORTHFIELD's    HOME;    OR, 

instead  of  building  up  the  Church  performing  an  act  directly 
to  militate  against  it!  The  situation  was  appalling.  Elder 
Parker's  first  wife  insane  and  perhaps  destroying  herself, 
and  he  ignorant  of  it  and  of  the  whereabouts  of  his  children  ! 
His  duty  seemed  plainly  to  be  to  inform  Elder  Parker  of  the 
circumstances,  deliver  his  children  up  to  him,  and  advise 
him  to  see  that  the  poor  woman  was  cared  for,  and  this  he 
tried  to  persuade  Marion  was  the  right  way  for  them  to  act 
in  the  matter. 

But  she  was  almost  frantic  with  grief  and  horror  at  the 
thought,  and  reminded  him  of  his  promise  at  least  not  to 
interfere  with  the  fulfilment  of  her  word  to  Mrs.  Parker. 
At  last,  at  her  earnest  entreaty,  he  left  his  business,  and  pro- 
curing a  carriage  drove  with  Marion  rapidly  to  the  humble 
home  of  the  suffering  woman. 

Two  or  three  women  and  a  physician  emerged  from  the 
house  as  they  approached.  They  stopjDed  to  speak  with  the 
physician  and  make  inquiries. 

'"Are  3'ou  this  woman's  husband,  sir?"  said  he. 

Elder  Xorthfield  was  thankful  that  he  could  reply  nega- 
tively, but  said  that  they  were  friends. 

*'  If  you  were,  I  was  about  to  suggest  that  you  immediately 
retrace  your  steps,  as  her  greatest  trouble  is  the  fear  of  his 
presence  and  his  possession  of  her  children,  who  she  says 
are  safe  with  friends  in  the  city.  At  least  she  should  be 
allowed  to  die  in  peace." 

"She  has  taken  poison,"  he  continued,  "and  cannot  live 
but  a  few  hours.  She  is  conscious  at  intervals,  and  evidently 
perfectly  sane,  which  has  not  been  the  case  with  her  of 
late." 

He  would  recommend  that  her  most  earnest  request  be 
complied  with,  namely,  that  Elder  Parker  should  not  be  in- 
formed of  her  death,  and  that  every  means  be  taken  to  pre- 
vent the  fact  from  coming  to  his  ears.     The  villagers  would 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON'  'ALTAR.     ,  , , ,    ,     3,01, 

aid  her  in  that,  and  kindly  and  quietly  give  her  a  t)nrial 
there.  The  pliysician  passed  on,  and  tremblingly  Marion 
entered  Avith  her  husband. 

Two  women  made  way  for  her,  and  she  kneeled  by  the 
dying  woman's  bedside,  but  she  was  unconscious.  She  soon, 
however,  opened  her  eyes,  and  now  the  wild  gleam  of  a  few 
months  past  was  not  in  them,  and  a  smile  of  recognition 
lighted  them,  but  she  was  too  weak  to  speak,  save  in  short, 
faint  whispers. 

Marion  beckoned  her  husband  to  approach.  He  did  so, 
and  she  turned  to  the  woman  and  said,  "  Here  is  my  hus- 
band, and  we  have  come  to  try  and  help  you.  Your  chil- 
dren are  at  my  liouse,  and  are  safe." 

"  Will  he  help  me  ?"  And  she  bent  her  searching  eyes  on 
Elder  Northfield  as  she  gasped  the  words. 

"  Yes,  my  poor  woman,  I  will  help  you.  What  can  I  do 
for  you  ?  "  said  he,  so  touched  by  the  sight  that  he  could 
not  refuse  her. 

"Keep  them  away  from  him,"  she  said,  wdth  great  effort. 

"  I  wdll,  if  possible,  and  will  see  them  safe  with  your  Gen- 
tile friend,  though  my  conscience  tells  me  I  am  interfering 
with  what  I  should  not,  and  doing  wrong,  but  for  your  sake 
I  promise  that  your  children  shall  leave  the  Mormons  if  I 
can  accomplish  it." 

"  God  will  bless  you,"  she  said,  and  she  never  spoke  again. 
She  sank  into  a  stupor  from  which  she  did  not  rouse,  and 
soon  her  sorrowful  life  was  at  an  end. 

But  who  shall  say  that  this  woman  was  a  self-murderer? 
Who  shall  say  that  she  was  not  a  victim  of  polygamy  rather 
than  of  her  own  hand?  Who  shall  say  that  the  sin  of  her 
death  lay  not  rather  at  the  door  of  a  false  religion  than  to 
her  charge?  May  it  not  be  that  a  pitying  God,  a  loving 
Father,  saw  her  infirmities,  had  compassion  on  her  weak- 
ness, and  tenderly  gave  her  rest  and  peace  where  sorrow  is 


,102      ...  .     ELDL^   NORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;   OR, 

unknown,  where  "  the  wicked  cease  from  troubhng  and  the 
weary  are  at  rest?  " 

Elder  Northfield  and  his  wife  left  the  dead  to  be  cared  for 
by  the  kind  women  of  the  village,  and  hastened  home  to 
care  for  the  living  and  fulfil  their  duty  to  them.  Elder 
Korthfield  was  terribly  harassed  in  mind.  His  conscience 
reiDroached  him  for  having  promised  to  perform  an  act  which 
would  be  treason  to  the  Church  and  to  one  of  its  ciders.  He 
considered  it  a  sin  to  aid  in  sending  any  one  from  the  Church 
into  the  world,  thereby  ruining  the  salvation  of  the  soul. 
He  was  as  ever  a  very  devout  Mormon,  and  duty  had  always 
been  law  to  him.  Conscientious  in  the  extreme,  yet  with 
those  dying  eyes  looking  at  him  so  pleadingly,  those  ice-cold 
lips  making  one  last  earthly  request,  humanity  conquered 
his  fanaticism,  and  he  could  not  refuse.  Little  did  he  think 
when  he  left  the  city  with  Marion  that  he  should  return  to 
take  the  responsibility  into  his  own  hands,  which  he  had 
been  so  shocked  to  learn  she  had  undertaken. 

But  by  the  memory  of  that  dying  mother  he  could  not 
betray  his  trust,  and  accordingly  next  day  arranged  his 
affairs  to  leave  in  other  hands  during  his  absence,  and  pre- 
pared to  start  in  the  evening  with  his  young  charges,  to  place 
them  himself  in  the  possession  of  their  Gentile  protector. 

But  he  was  saved  the  commission  of  this  sin  against  the 
Church  and  his  conscience  kept  free  from  guilt,  and  Marion 
was  called  to  meet  one  of  the  greatest  disappointments  she 
had  ever  known. 

Elder  Parker,  in  spite  of  the  precautions  taken  to  the  con- 
trary, learned  of  the  death  of  his  wife,  through  some  means, 
and  soon  proved  that  his  indifference  to  her  children  was 
not  so  complete  as  she  thought.  He  learned  that  the  vil- 
lao^ers  were  about  to  burv  her,  and  did  not  consider  himself 
under  any  obligation  to  interest  himself  further,  but  sought 
to  learn  where  the  children  were.    The  people  of  the  vicinity 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  103 

could  only  tell  him  they  were  with  friends  in  the  city,  that 
a  man  and  w^oman  named  Northfield  had  been  there,  and 
might  know  where  they  were.  He  repaired  to  Elder  North- 
field's  house,  arriving  in  the  evening  while  he  was  out  making 
arrangements  for  an  immediate  departure.  Marion  was  wrap- 
ping up  the  little  ones  warmly  for  their  journey,  when  on 
answering  the  summons  at  the  door  she  was  confronted  by 
Elder  Parker.  He  made  his  object  known,  and  Marion's 
hope  was  gone.  She  thought  of  the  poor  mother's  anguish 
through  fear  of  this  event,  and  wondered  if  in  the  other 
world  she  now  looked  down  and  beheld  what  was  trans- 
piring. 

She  boldly  plead  for  the  children,  depicting  that  mother's 
sorrow  and  misery,  and  hoped  to  touch  the  heart  of  her 
listener.  She  begged  that  the  dying  request  might  be 
granted.  She  argued  that  he  had  children  enough  and  to 
spare,  and  begged  that  these  two  might  be  allowed  to  go  to 
the  home  so  amply  provided  for  them.  Her  arguments 
were  of  no  avail,  though  she  was  glad  to  notice  his  evident 
uneasiness  at  hearing  of  his  wife's  sufferings.  He  mani- 
fested much  anger  towards  her  for  the  part  she  had  taken  in 
the  proceeding,  and  she  generously  and  skilfully  contrived 
to  make  it  appear  that  she  was  the  principal  offender  in  the 
case,  that  no  blame  might  fall  on  her  husband.  Elder 
Parker  left  her,  saying  that  he  would  send  Carrie  next  day 
for  the  children.  Soon  after  his  departure,  Elder  North- 
field  entered.  He  was  surprised  to  learn  how  matters  stood, 
but  Marion  could  hardly  feel  kindly  towards  him  when  she 
observed  that  he  appeared  to  feel  relieved,  as  the  responsi- 
bility that  had  so  troubled  him  was  taken  from  him. 
Marion  passed  a  sleepless  night.  Not  so  her  husband ;  he 
could  now  rest,  for  he  had  a  clear  conscience,  and  although 
he  remembered  with  pity  the  dying  woman,  he  Avas  glad  to 
be  honorably  exempted  from  fulfilling  his  promise  to  her. 


104  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's    HOME;    OR, 

The  next  day  Carrie  came  for  the  children.  She  was  now 
in  a  house  of  her  own,  and  was  willing  and  ghid  to  under- 
take their  care.  Slie  was  a  kind-hearted  woman,  and  rather 
loneh^  as  her  husband's  devotion  was  beginning  to  flag,  and 
at  best  was  to  be  divided  among  three.  Sorrowfully  Marion 
joarted  with  her  little  charges,  though  she  felt  sure  that 
Carrie  would  be  kind  to  them.  But  one  thought  sadly  im- 
pressed her.  They  were  after  all  to  grow  up  Mormons,  and 
the  mother's  fears  for  them  would  undoubtedly  be  realized. 
Not  even  her  last  wish  while  upon  earth  could  be  granted. 

Elder  Northfield  was  now  in  trouble,  and  called  down  upon 
himself  the  indignation  of  Brigham  Young  and  the  Church. 
Kotwithstanding  Marion's  attempt  to  prevent  any  blame 
from  falling  upon  him,  the  truth  came  out,  and  he  was 
called  to  meet  in  conference  with  the  Church  authori- 
ties. He  was  accused  of  treason  to  the  Church,  and  of  being 
next  door  to  apostacy.  He  positively  denied  the  latter 
charge,  declaring  that  he  was  never  more  determined  to  de- 
vote himself  to  his  religion  than  then.  He  expressed  his 
sorrow  and  humility  at  having  allowed  a  dying  woman  to 
persuade  him  to  undertake  an  act  for  which  his  conscience 
condemned  him  even  at  the  time.  He  asked  forgiveness  of 
the  Church  for  the  offence,  as  he  had  done  of  God,  and 
promised  in  future  .to  be  influenced  only  by  his  duty 
towards  God  and  the  Church.  The  duty  of  obedience  was 
then  urged  upon  him,  in  living  up  to  all  the  requirements 
of  the  religion.  Reference  was  made  to  his  wife,  who  had 
been  the  means  of  leading  him  to  sin,  and  the  strong  lan- 
guage used  against  her  nearly  destroyed  all  the  humility 
and  penitence  he  had  experienced.  Although  she  had  been 
the  cause  of  his  humiliation,  yet  he  could  not  bear  that  one 
word  should  be  said  against  her.  He  was  reminded  of  his 
lack  of  dignity  in  allowing  a  woman  to  govern  his  actions, 
and  urged  to  act  upon  the  principle  that  the  man  is  the 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  105 

ruler  of  his  wife  or  wives,  and  that  his  word  should  be  the 
law  to  be  unquestionably  obeyed.  A  woman's  salvation  de- 
pended upon  her  obedience  to  her  husband,  and  he  who  did 
not  secure  this  failed  in  his  duty  towards  her.  His  spiritual 
advisers  went  still  farther  and  recommended  him  to  take  a 
step  in  advance  in  atonement  for  his  sin  and  enter  into 
polygamy.  This  was  recommended  for  the  benefit  of  his 
wife,  also,  '*  for,"  said  they,  ''  the  sooner  such  women  as  she 
are  forced  into  it  the  better.  Nothing  cures  them  of  their 
opposition  to  the  system  sooner  than  being  forced  to  submit 
to  it.  Besides,  he  was  abundantly  able  to  provide  for  an  in- 
creased family,  and  while  so  many  men  were  nobly  struggling 
in  poverty  to  support  from  two  to  eight  or  ten  wives,  it  was 
a  reproach  to  one  of  his  income  to  remain  longer  with  only 
one.  He  should  see  to  it  that  he  was  building  up  his  king- 
dom. Elder  Northfield  could  hardly  refrain  then  from  de- 
claring his  intention  of  never  entering  into  polygamy,  and 
telling  them  of  his  promise  to  that  effect.  Their  exhorta- 
tions were  at  war  with  his  better  nature,  and  he  felt  antago- 
nistic to  them.  He  tried  to  conquer  this  feeling,  believing 
it  was  wicked  to  indulge  in  resentment  against  God's  chosen 
servants.  He  tried  to  receive  their  counsel  in  a  proper 
spirit.  He  replied  that  he  would  think  of  the  matter.  He 
hoped  thus  to  satisfy  them  without  open  opposition.  He 
now  felt  that  he  and  his  wife  were  placed  in  a  very  uncom- 
fortable position.  He  felt  obliged  to  tell  her  what  had  been 
said  to  him,  to  warn  her  against  any  remark  which  might 
attract  attention  to  her  views.  They  agreed  that  they  could 
not  be  too  careful,  and  Clarion  was  very  much  troubled, 
though  she  comforted  herself  by  calling  to  mind  her  hus- 
band's words,  "Cost  what  it  may,  I  will  never  take  another 
wife." 

The  excitement  and  interest  in  their  case  gradually  dimin- 
ished, although  frequently  persecuted  by  suggestions  of 
polygamy.     These  were  a  source  of  perplexity  and  torment 


106  ELDER   NORTHFIELDS    HOME;    OR, 

to  Elder  Northfield,  who  wished  to  be  regarded,  and  wished 
to  be,  a  devout  Mormon.  But  he  could  not  think  of  break- 
ing his  vow  to  Marion,  and  thus  blasting  her  young  life. 
He  did  not  either  feel  that  God  called  him  to  take  that  step, 
though  he  dared  not  condemn  it  in  others. 

And  thus  time  passed  on  and  another  little  one  came  to 
them— a  second  Elsie— frail  and  tender— a  delicate  flower 
which  bloomed  only  for  a  time.  She  learned  to  lisp  the 
names  of  papa  and  mamma,  to  wind  her  little  arms  lovingly 
around  their  necks,  to  play  in  her  baby  glee  with  little  Forest, 
and  then  their  hearts  were  called  to  mourn,  for  baby  was  no 
more.  This  was  their  first  real  sorrow.  That  strong  man 
sobbed  and  shook  with  grief  as  his  pet  w^as  laid  away,  and 
the  young  mother  felt  that  henceforth  her  home  was  deso- 
late without  its  cradle,  the  little  dresses,  and  the  prints  of 
baby  fingers. 

Owing  to  the  non-existence  of  regular  mails,  Marion  had 
heard  from  and  written  to  her  sister  but  seldom  ;  and  even 
had  it  been  possible,  her  husband  w^ould  have  discouraged  a 
frequent  correspondence,  for  he  noticed  Elsie's  letters  always 
seemed  to  make  Marion  more  sad  and  discontented  with  her 
present  life.  Elsie  was  still  living  with  her  aunt,  and  ex- 
pressed her  perfect  content  with  everything,  save  her  sepa- 
ration from  her  sister. 

Elder  Northfield  had  long  ago  given  up  all  hope  of 
Marion  ever  again  believing  in  the  faith,  but  hoped  that  she 
would  eventually  become  at  least  resigned  and  contented. 
He  was  still  prospering  in  business,  and  the  manner  in 
which  they  were  now  able  to  live  formed  a  strong  contrast 
to  their  humble  beginning.  Forest  was  now  a  beautiful  lad 
of  four  years,  with  golden  hair  and  blue  eyes  like  his 
mother's.  He  was  the  joy  and  pride  of  that  home.  But 
deep  down  in  the  hearts  of  father  and  mother  was  written 
the  memory  of  the  little  girl  that  died,  and  her  place  could 
never  be  filled  by  another. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  107 


CHAPTER  VII. 

PEACEFULLY,  almost  happily,  at  times,  were  the  days 
of  Marion's  life  passing  now,  but  her  clear  sky  was 
darkening,  a  cloud  was  gathering,  a  storm  was  about  to  burst 
over  her  head  and  well-nigh  overwhelm  her.  For  a  time, 
after  the  indignation  brought  upon  them  by  the  unsuccess- 
ful attempt  to  send  Elder  Parker's  children  into  the  Gentile 
world,  Marion  was  troubled  and  annoyed  by  visits  from  pro- 
fessed friends,  both  male  and  female,  who  labored  with  a 
true  missionary  zeal  to  convince  her  of  her  remissness  in 
duty  and  her  sinful  selfishness  in  insisting  on  being  the  only 
wife.  Some  of  the  brethren  told  her  she  was  a  curse  instead 
of  a  blessing  to  her  husband,  and  that  but  for  her  influence 
over  him  he  would  undoubtedly  go  on  to  the  performance 
of  his  duty.  Marion  felt  to  thank  God  for  this  influence. 
She  gradually  withdrew  herself  from  all  society,  as  much  as 
was  possible,  save  that  of  her  friend,  Mrs.  Atwood,  and  the 
young  wife  of  Elder  Atkins,  with  whom  she  had  formed  a 
strong  friendship.  She  remained  exclusively  at  home,  find- 
ing her  pleasure  there  in  the  home  cares  and  society  of  her 
husband  and  little  boy.  Francis  and  Edith  Parker  came 
often  to  see  her,  and  sometimes  Carrie  came  with  them. 

At  length  and  by  degrees  a  change  seemed  to  come  over 
Elder  Northfield.  His  natural  cheerfulness  was  departing, 
and  he  had  an  appearance  of  mental  depression  which 
aroused  Marion's  anxiety  for  him.  She  could  not  interest 
him  in  conversation,  and  if  she  talked  to  him  he  seemed  pre- 
occupied in  other  matters.     He  often  forgot  to  take  his  little 


108  ET,DER   KORTHFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

bo}^  in  his  amis  for  a  frolic,  on  returning  home  at  nighty  as 
he  always  had  done,  and  tlie  little  fellow's  loud  demonstra- 
tions of  jo}"  at  papa's  return  fell  unnoticed  on  his  car.  Oi'ten 
did  the  child  go  to  him  with  some  request,  and  after  trying 
in  vain  to  attract  his  attention,  he  went  discouraged  to  his 
mother  with  his  wants.  Elder  Northfield  sat  reading  now  a 
great  deal,  but  Marion  had  asked  him  on  one  or  two  occa- 
sions what  he  had  been  reading,  and  he  could  not  tell  her. 
He  was  kind  as  ever,  and  at  times  caressed  her  in  the  ten- 
derest  manner ;  again,  almost  extravagantly  expressing  his 
love  for  her  and  calling  her  by  many  endearing  names.  Not- 
withstanding this,  at  other  times  he  seemed  to  have  forgotten 
her  very  existence,  so  preoccupied  was  he. 

At  first  Marion  did  not  appear  to  notice  the  change,  striv- 
ing by  every  means  to  make  him  more  cheerful,  but  as  she 
fiiilcd  in  tliis,  she  asked  him  why  he  seemed  so  troubled.  She 
inquired  if  his  business  affairs  were  perplexing  him. 

He  answered  that  he  had  met  with  some  losses  and  was  a 
little  emharrassed,  but  hoped  to  get  through  all  right. 

She  tried  to  encourage  him  to  think  all  would  be  well, 
and  even  if  the  worst  came,  they  would  only  be  obliged  to 
go  back  to  their  old  humble  way  of  living,  and  that  would 
not  he  so  very  dreadful,  for  had  not  some  of  their  happiest 
days  been  spent  in  tliat  humble  cottage,  where  they  first 
made  a  home  for  themselves? 

But  he  did  not  seem  much  comforted,  although  he  fondly 
kissed  his  wife  and  called  her  his  comforter.  As  the  weeks 
passed  he  became  more  depressed,  and  his  nights  were  rest- 
less, liis  sleep  troubled. 

One  evening  Marion  approached  the  chamber  where  ho 
had  repaired,  and  opened  the  door  unnoticed  by  him.  He 
was  kneeling  at  the  bedside.     INIarion  caught  these  words : 

"My  God,  if  it  is  possible,. let  this  cup  pass  from  me  and 
my  poor  Marion.     Nevertheless,  not  our  will,  but  thine,  be 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  109 

done.  Teach  me  my  duty,  0  God,  and  give  me  strength  to 
do  it.  But  let  me  not  bring  sorrow  on  that  loving  heart. 
Stay  my  hand,  if  thou  wilt,  but,  0  God — " 

Marion  heard  no  more:-  she  turned  and  fled,  her  heart  filled 
with  the  most  terrible  forebodings.  She  caught  up  her  boy 
and  wildly  kissed  and  caressed  him.  She  could  not  think; 
she  felt  stunned.  She  tried  to  still  the  beatings  of  her  heart. 
At  last  she  had  discovered  the  cause  of  her  husband's  strange 
mood.  She  divined  the  truth.  As  continued  washing  wears 
the  hardest  rock  away,  so  the  perpetual  influence  of  the  Mor- 
mon leaders  had  their  effect  at  last  on  their  victim.  Con- 
stant and  unceasing,  for  nearly  four  years,  had  been  their 
efforts  to  convert  him  to  a  practical  belief  in  the  one  doc- 
trine he  had  never  embraced.  Skilful  had  been  their  argu- 
ments and  apt  their  presentations  of  Bible  examples,  and  an 
important  point  was  gained  when  they  had  convinced  him 
that  any  man  was  justified  in  taking  more  than  one  wife.  It 
was  long,  however,  before  he  could  be  made  to  believe  it  was 
his  duty  to  enter  personally  into  polygamy.  They,  however, 
accomplished  that  in  time ;  but  with  his  intelHgence  and  the 
natural  nobility  of  his  character,  it  never  could  have  been 
accomplished,  except  through  the  fervor  of  his  religion  and 
his  implicit  faith  in  the  higher  authorities.  His  sacred  vow 
and  promise  to  his  wife  was  of  no  account  compared  with 
his  duty  to  his  religion,  and  as  it  was  made  with  a  belief  in 
its  righteousness  at  the  time,  he  was  completely  absolved 
from  its  fulfilment  by  the  appearance  of  new  light. 

Without  obeying  the  commands  of  God,  neither  he  nor 
his  wife  could  ever  enter  the  Celestial  Kingdom ;  therefore  it 
was  manifestly  his  duty,  for  her  sake  as  well  as  his  own,  to 
obey.  He  had  once  been  guilty  of  treason  against  the  Church, 
and  bitterly  repented  it,  vowing  thenceforth  to  perform  every 
duty  faithfully,  as  it  was  made  known  to  him.  Except  his 
unfaithfulness  in  this  affair,  he  had  been  a  most  conscien- 


110  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;    OR, 

tious  member  of  the  Mormon  Church,  and  now  he  believed 
it  his  duty  to  obey  counsel,  but  it  involved  the  breaking  of 
his  vow  to  Marion,  and  perhaps  the  breaking  of  her  heart. 
Within  his  soul  raged  a  terrible  contest  between  love  and 
duty. 

At  last  a  crisis  came.  The  patience  of  the  Apostles  was 
exhausted  with  the  obstinacy  of  their  intended  convert,  and 
he  was  voted  a  disgrace  to  the  Church.  His  soft-heartedness 
and  regard  for  his  wife,  and  his  fidelity  to  his  promise  to 
her,  were  ridiculed,  and  he  was  accused  of  submitting  to 
woman's  government. 

Then  Brigham  Young  interested  himself  personally  in  the 
matter,  and  commanded  Elder  Northfield  to  take  another 
wife,  under  penalty  of  expulsion  from  the  Church. 

Said  he,  "  If  he  will  not  obey,  he  is  no  Mormon,  but  a  vile 
hypocrite,  and  will  end  in  apostatizing.  We  will  have  no 
men  in  the  Church  who  set  themselves  up  above  their  leaders, 
or  who  will  be  governed  by  a  Avife  instead  of  the  church. 

Let  him  go  to  the  d 1,  where  he  belongs,  if  he  will  not 

obe}^  counsel." 

Now  he  could  only  choose  between  obedience  to  the  com- 
mands laid  upon  him  and  the  giving  up  of  his  religion. 
The  former  involved  the  striking  of  a  death-blow  to  his  do- 
mestic happiness,  the  latter  a  giving  up  of  all  hope  of  hap- 
piness in  the  Celestial  Kingdom  for  himself  and  her,  too,  for 
he  believed  that  outside  the  Mormon  Church  there  was  no 
salvation. 

One  course  excluded,  perhaps,  all  happiness  in  this  world, 
and  the  other  all  happiness  in  the  eternal  world.  Which 
should  he  choose?  Abraham  was  willing  to  sacrifice  his  best 
beloved  for  his  religion,  and  he  would  be  doing  no  more  in 
obeying  Brigham  Young's  command.  Should  he  wish  to  do 
less?  Was  not  hesitating  a  proof  of  more  love  for  an  earthly 
idol  than  for  God?   Might  it  not  be  that  if  God  saw  his  sub- 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  lU 

mission  and  his  willingness  to  go  forward  in  the  perform- 
ance of  his  duty,  his  hand,  like  Abraham's,  would  be  stayed, 
and  as  Isaac  was  saved  from  being  offered  up  a  sacrifice,  so 
might  his  best  beloved  escape  ? 

So  far  had  Elder  Northfield's  fanaticism  carried  him.  This 
Avas  the  power  a  despotic  religion  exercised  over  the  mind 
of  man,  blinding  him  to  all  sense  of  right,  all  instincts  of 
reason,  and  investing  the  basest  of  crimes  with  the  virtue  of 
sacrifice  and  religious  devotion.  This  was  the  religion  which 
made  men  morally  and  mentally  strong,  to  become  weak  tools 
in  the  hands  of  their  leaders, — that  worked  upon  the  minds 
of  men  of  the  more  emotional  and  religious  nature,  with  the 
greatest  success,  making  of  them  the  most  fanatical  con- 
verts. 

Elder  Northfield  was  now  in  that  frame  of  mind  which 
determined  him  to  let  nothing  stand  in  the  way  of  duty, 
and  he  resolved  to  obey  at  the  expense  of  everything.  He 
went  to  God  in  prayer  for  help  and  strength.  To  him  there 
was  no  blasphemy  in  praying  for  strength  to  strike  a  death- 
blow to  a  loving,  trustful  heart,  no  mockery  in  asking  God's 
blessing  on  his  course,  no  inconsistency  in  imploring  that  if 
need  be  his  heart  might  be  hardened,  lest  it  fail  him  in  the 
performance  of  his  duty. 

His  mind  was  made  up,  and  as  Marion  had  once  said, 
"  Duty  was  law  to  him."  He  now  felt  a  sense  of  relief  in  at 
last  being  able  to  decide,  and  decide  aright,  even  at  the  ex- 
pense of  his  feelings.  He  felt  that  God  would  approve  of 
his  course,  and  even  if  he  did  not  interpose,  as  in  the  case 
of  Abraham  and  Isaac,  yet  his  blessing  would  rest  upon  them, 
and  in  the  end  all  would  be  well. 

Marion  now  knew  that  her  husband  had  been  persuaded 
or  compelled  to  contemplate  entering  into  polygamy.  Her 
trust  in  him  had  been  misplaced ;  her  faith  had  proved  a 
vain  one.     Notwithstanding  his  oft-repeated  promise,  not- 


112  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's    HOME)    OR, 

withstanding  his  indignation  that  her  aunt  should  think 
him  capable  of  such  faithlessness,  now  he  was  about  to 
prove  tlie  truth  of  her  conviction. 

The  words  of  her  aunt  came  back  to  her :  "  You  know  not 
how  almost  impossible  it  is  for  a  man  to  withstand  the  con- 
stant counsels  and  commands  to  marry  again.  Will  he  be 
more  true  than  every  other  man  just  as  honorable  and  sin- 
cere as  he  now  is  ?  " 

She  thought  of  the  many  expressions  of  confidence  in  her 
future  happiness  that  she  had  uttered,  and  of  the  never- 
wavering  faith  and  trust  she  had  given  her  husband,  of  his 
love  and  affection  for  her,  and  she  could  not  believe  that  he 
would  consummate  the  project  he  now  undoubtedly  enter- 
tained. Such  wretchedness  she  never  knew  before.  She  felt 
that  her  heart  would  be  crushed  with  its  load  of  misery,  but 
3'et  she  hoped.  Seldom  comes  a  time,  a  situation,  where 
there  is  no  hope — no  single  gleam  to  keep  the  pulses  of  life 
throbbing,  the  beatings  of  the  heart  stirring.  Dark  indeed, 
even  with  Egyptian  darkness,  the  hour  which  is  cheered  by 
not  one  ray  of  light  to  magnify  and  catch  at,  as  a  drowning 
man  catches  at  a  straw.  Such  utter  darkness  had  not  yet 
come  to  Marion's  heart.  She^  knew  her  influence  over  her 
husband,  she  knew  his  tenderness  towards  all  mankind,  and 
especially  towards  herself.  She  knew  his  natural  humanity^ 
which  lie  could  not  crush  out,  had  once,  when  weighed  in 
the  balance  with  duty  and  fidelity  to  the  Church,  turned  the 
scale  in  favor  of  humanity,  and  that  sympathy  for  misery 
had  overbalanced  all  other  considerations,  and  she  hoped  it 
might  again.  She  knew  his  sorrow  for  that  act,  his  strong 
faith,  and  his  conscientiousness,  yet  she  could  not  believe  he 
would  ruin  her  happiness  forever. 

He  had  been  besieged  and  persuaded,  until  he  could  resist 
no  longer,  but  she  had  never  plead  with  him.  He  had  never 
listened  to  her  entreaties,  her  side  of  the  question  had  not 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  113 

been  presented  to  him.  First,  she  would  try  the  surest  way 
to  accomplish  her  purpose.  She  would  still  her  beating  heart 
and  calmly  reason  with  him.  She  would  ask  God  to  help 
her,  and  taking  her  Bible,  try,  as  she  never  had  done  before, 
to  show  him  his  error  from  God's  word.  If  she  could  only 
persuade  him  that  Mormonism  was  a  delusion,  or  even  that 
it  would  be  right  for  him  to  renounce  his  intention,  she  knew 
he  would  do  so.  She  must  stifle  every  emotion,  keep  her 
mind  clear  in  spite  of  anything  he  might  say  to  excite  and 
terrify  her,  and  with  all  her  skill  make  one  desperate  effort 
to  save  herself.  Failing  in  this,  she  would  appeal  to  his  sym- 
pathy, and  at  her  pleadings,  her  loving  entreaties,  her  sor- 
row, his  heart  would  relent,  and  surely  he  could  not  deny 
her.  Then  they  would  forever  leave  that  place  where  she 
had  seen  so  much  sorrow,  and  again  be  happy  in  the  Gen- 
tile world. 

Elder  Northfield  now  entered  the  room,  with  a  troubled 
but  determined  look. 

"  Marion,"  said  he,  with  a  husky  voice,  "  I  have  something 
to  tell  you — something  you  will  not  like  to  hear.  You  have 
asked  me  what  has  been  troubling  me  of  late,  and  expressed 
Buch  a  brave  spirit  at  the  prospect  of  trouble  in  business, 
that  I  have  hope  that  you  will  bear  this  trouble  bravely, 
although  of  a  different  nature.  The  thought  of  it  has  made 
me  wretched  night  and  day  for  months.  My  own  dear  wife, 
God  knows  I  would  save  you  from  it  if  I  could !  " 

"  You  can,  Henry  !  O,  you  can,  if  you  will !  I  know  what 
your  trouble  is.  I  know  that  you  are  deluded  into  believing 
that  you  must  take  another  wife.  I  heard  you  asking  God 
to  give  you  strength  to  ruin  my  life,  if  need  be.  I  heard  you 
ask  God  to  stay  your  hand.  He  will  not  stay  it  if  you  de- 
liberately decide  to  let  it  fall  and  crush  me.  I  heard  you 
pray  God  not  to  let  you  bring  sorrow  on  that  loving  heart. 
He  will  let  you  do  it,  if  you  will.  It  is  not  God  that  is  doing 
8 


114  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME  ;    OR, 

this ;  it  is  you.  You  are  breaking  your  vow  to  me.  You  are 
forever  blighting  my  happiness,  and,  I  believe,  your  own, 
too.  Is  it  a  kind  and  just  God  who  bids  you  do  this  thing? 
Is  it  a  merciful  Father  who  commands  you  to  cause  such 
misery  to  fall  on  one  whom  you  should  cherish  and  shield 
from  trouble  ?  Is  it  a  pure  religion  which  leads  you  into 
such  gross  immorality?  O,  my  dear  husband,  you  are  de- 
ceived !  How  can  you  believe  that  such  miserable  teachings 
are  divine !  Why  will  you  not  use  the  reason  God  has  given 
you,  and  from  it  decide  what  is  right  ?  Why  ignore  one  of 
God's  best  gifts,  and  trample  it  under  foot?  If  He  gives 
revelations  to  the  heads  of  the  Church,  He  also  gave  you  a 
mind  and  heart.  Were  they  allowed  to  exercise  their  natural 
functions,  you  never  could  come  to  this.  But  your  mind 
has  become  warped,  you  cannot  see  things  in  their  right 
light.  You  are  stifling  all  the  good  instincts  of  your  heart, 
and  think,  in  doing  so,  you  are  doing  God's  will." 

"  Marion !  Marion  !  You  do  not  know  what  you  are  say- 
ing. The  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately 
wicked.  We  should  not  follow  our  inclinations,  but  our  con- 
victions of  duty.  Although  my  heart  aches  for  you,  yet  my 
conscience  tells  me  I  am  right.  If  I  could  bear  all  your  part 
of  this  trouble,  as  well  as  my  own,  I  would  gladly  do  it.  Do 
you  suppose  I  could  ever  have  come  to  this  decision  if  I  had 
not  believed  it  to  be  my  duty  ?  We  must  crucify  our  own 
wills  and  inclinations,  and  be  willing  to  obey  God,  no  matter 
what  the  sacrifice  may  be,  and  in  the  eternal  world  our  re- 
ward will  be  sure." 

"  Does  God  delight  in  seeing  his  children  inflict  trouble  on 
themselves  and  their  dear  ones  ?  "  asked  Marion. 

"Whom  He  loveth.  He  chasteneth,"  answered  her  hus- 
band. 

"  Then  let  Him  chasten.  Do  not  take  the  chastening  rod 
from  His  hands." 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  115 

"But  He  works  through  His  children,  and  commands 
them,  and  they  must  obe3^" 

"  Is  God  pleased  to  see  the  Hindoo  mother  throw  her  in- 
nocent babe  into  the  Ganges  as  a  sacrifice  to  appease  His 
wrath?  Does  He  delight  in  seeing  the  men  and  women  of 
heathen  lands  throw  themselves  down  for  the  wheels  of  Jug- 
gernaut to  crush  them  ?  Is  He  honored  and  pleased  at  the 
lifelong  tortures  men  inflict  on  themselves  in  the  hope  of 
thereby  gaining  greater  happiness  in  Heaven  ?  Or  does  He 
look  upon  the  cruel  wickedness  in  the  Mormon  church  with 
any  degree  of  pleasure  because  the  participants  fancy  they 
are  doing  His  will  ?  " 

"  Marion,  it  is  simply  blasphemous  for  you  to  associate  the 
religion  of  the  Latter-Day  Saints  with  heathenism,  in  the 
way  you  do.  You  never  did  so  before,  and  would  not  thus 
denounce  Mormonism  now  were  it  not  that  you  so  shrink 
from  bearing  the  cross." 

"  I  never  felt  the  necessity  of  it  so  strongly  before,  although 
my  convictions  have  been  the  same  since  we  first  arrived  in 
this  city.  But  I  have  forebore  to  trouble  you 'with  my 
opinions,  believing  it  to  be  useless  to  try  to  persuade  you  to 
renounce  your  rehgion,  until  now  you  propose  to  make  a 
living  sacrifice  of  me.  I  can't  submit  without  an  effort  to 
show  you  that  you  are  wrong,  without  a  struggle  to  save 
myself  and  you,  too,  from  future  trouble,  for  I  do  believe 
that  there  will  come  a  day  before  you  die  when  you  will 
bitterly  repent  it  if  you  take  this  step." 

"  I  would  give  every  dollar  I  possess,  or  ever  hope  to  pos- 
sess, Marion,  to  see  you  again  rooted  and  grounded  in  the 
faith  as  you  once  were.  It  is  the  lack  of  faith  that  gives  rise 
to  such  opinions  as  yours.  If  you  could  believe  in  Mor- 
monism as  I  do,  you  would  cheerfully  submit  to  everything 
that  was  for  your  highest  good  and  glory.  You  would  bear 
this  cross  for  Christ's  sake.    You  would  look  beyond  this 


116  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

short  life;  and  even  if  the  consciousness  of  having  done  right 
failed  to  give  you  peace  and  joy  here,  you  would  be  sure  of 
happiness  hereafter." 

*'But,  Henry,  what  does  the  Bible  say?  Does  it  not  say 
*Aman  shall  be  the  husband  of  one  wife?'  Does  it  not 
everywhere  teach  that  plural  marriages  are  wrong?  " 

"  My  dear,  was  not  Jacob  a  tried  and  faithful  servant  of 
God,  blessed  with  visions  from  Heaven  ?  Did  he  not  take 
first  Leah,  then  Rachel,  to  wife  ?  And  we  have  no  intima- 
tion that  God  disapproved  of  his  course.  Abraham,  too,  the 
most  favored  of  all  God's  servants,  lived  up  to  this  doctrine. 
And  what  is  more,  Sarah,  his  first  wife,  gave  unto  him 
Hagar,  another  wife.  No  doubt  she  did  it  cheerfully, 
and  God  blessed  her  abundantly  and  in  a  wonderful 
manner." 

"  But  that  was  in  the  old  dispensation  before  Christ  came 
and  taught  differently.  You  know  before  His  coming  it  was 
said  '  an  eye  for  an  eye  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth,'  and  God's 
servants  were  allowed  to  indulge  in  revenge  against  their 
enemies,  and  He  even  led  them  in  battle  to  destroy  them ; 
but  Christ  says,  '  but  I  say  unto  you  that  you  shall  love 
your  enemies,  and  do  good  to  those  that  despitefully  use 
you  and  persecute  you.'  All  things  were  changed  by  his 
coming,  and  nowhere  in  the  New  Testament  can  be  found 
any  authority  for  this  doctrine." 

"  But,  Marion,  your  own  admission  of  a  change,  caused  by 
a  new  dispensation,  confounds  your  argument.  We  are 
living  in  a  still  newer  dispensation — the  last  one — and  it  is 
changed  from  Christ's  dispensation  somev/hat,  though  re- 
sembling both  that  and  the  first.  If  we  are  to  follow  the 
last,  then  we  are  to  follow  the  teachings  and  commands 
given  in  the  new  revelations.  These  last  revelations  of  God 
to  man  are  more  binding  upon  us  than  the  Bible  by  your 
own  arguments.     The  Book  of  Mormon  and  the  divine  reve- 


SACRIFICED    ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  117 

lations  to  Joseph  Smith  on  celestial  marriages  arc  later 
authority  than  the  Bible." 

"I  was  not  thinking  of  man's  dispensations,  but  of  God's. 
I  cannot  believe  that  God  gives  revelations  in  these  days; 
but  if  so,  he  would  have  selected  men  more  pure  and  holy 
than  Joseph  Smith  or  Brigham  Young  to  receive  them. 
We  both  know  that  in  all  the  years  we  have  spent  here,  we 
have  seen  many  actions  of  Brigham  Young's  and  the  Apos- 
tles which  were  very  questionable  for  saints." 

"Certainly;  even  God's  chosen  servants  sometimes  sin. 
They  are  human  and  liable  to  err  ;  but  that  does  not  prove 
that  they  are  not,  in  the  main,  right.  We  are  not  to  judge 
those  God  has  set  over  us.  And  as  to  the  revelations,  there 
is  no  reason  why  God  should  not  give  them  in  these  days  as 
well  as  in  farmer  times.  But  why  argue  the  question 
further,  Marion?  It  only  distresses  us  both.  I  see  my 
duty,  and  hard  though  it  is,  I  must  do  it.  I  must  do  it  for 
your  sake,  as  well  as  mine ;  for  though  you  do  not  believe  it, 
if  we  go  into  the  Gentile  world  our  souls  are  lost;  but  if  I 
live  up  to  the  light  given  me,  God  will  bless  me  and  my 
house  and  thus  bring  us  all  into  his  kingdom.  How  can  I 
hesitate  between  happiness  here  for  my  darling  and  eternal 
happiness  for  her  ?  0  that  you  might  look  far  enough  ahead 
and  see  as  I  do  what  will  be  for  our  happiness  in  the 
end ! " 

During  this  argument  Marion  had  gradually  become  more 
and  more  hopeless,  until  at  last  she  quite  despaired  of  suc- 
cess. She  was  utterly  wretched  now,  and  very  weak  from  her 
excitement  and  great  effort  to  hide  her  emotion.  Elder 
Northfield  had  been  surprised  at  her  calmness,  and  greatly 
relieved.  He  expected  the  wildest  storm  of  grief,  and 
dreaded  exceedingly  the  effect  the  knowledge  might  have 
upon  her.  He  had  beforehand  steeled  his  heart  against  her 
pleadings,  lest  his  strength  should  fail  him.     But  she  had 


118  ELDER   NORTHFIELd's   HOME  ;    OR, 

been  so  calm  and  composed,  giving  way  to  no  emotion,  that 
he  now  felt  that  he  had  been  unnecessarily  rigid.  He 
thought  the  worst  was  now  over  and  she  would  gradually 
look  at  the  situation  in  a  more  favorable  light.  He  little 
knew  of  the  hope  that  was  the  secret  of  her  calmness,  nor 
realized  that  her  self-control  was  like  a  desperate  effort  for 
dear  life.  She  tried  to  rise  from  her  chair,  but  fell  back  into 
it.  She  attempted  to  speak,  but  could  not.  Her  husband 
sprang  to  save  her  from  falling,  and  taking  her  in  his  arms, 
he  gently  laid  her  on  a  sofa,  saying,  ''  My  poor  wife !  I  pity 
you  !     God  knows  I  do  !  " 

He  procured  a  stimulant  for  her  and  she  was  soon  able 
to  speak.  She  wound  her  arms  about  his  neck  and  plead 
with  all  the  eloquence  of  her  soul.  Her  appeal  to  his 
reason  had  been  in  vain  ;  now  she  appealed  to  his  heart. 
As  those  blue  eyes,  so  full  of  terror  and  anguish,  looked 
into  his,  and  those  quivering  lips  begged  and  plead  that 
he  would  keep  his  promise  to  her,  his  composure  gave 
way,  and  he  saw  that  all  her  former  calmness  was  caused  by 
her  agony.  She  reminded  him  of  his  promise,  of  her  never- 
failing  devotion  to  him,  of  all  she  had  given  up  for  love  of 
him,  when  all  hope  in  her  religion  had  failed  her.  She  en- 
treated him,  by  the  memory  of  all  their  past  happiness,  their 
little  boy,  their  happy  home,  to  relent  and  go  into  the  Gen- 
tile world  with  her  and  their  boy. 

Then  it  was  that  he  hesitated.  How  could  he  dash  the 
cup  of  happiness  from  her  lips  ?  How  could  he  reward  all 
her  faithfulness  to  him  by  breaking  her  heart?  His  deter- 
mination was  weakening,  and  at  the  risk  of  their  eternal 
salvation,  he  was  almost  persuaded  to  grant  her  request. 
He  looked  into  her  agonized  face  and  felt  that  he  could 
not  refuse  her;  but  as  fate  would  have  it,  at  that  instant  a 
leaf  from  a  worn-out  book  of  Mormon  doctrines  and  revela- 
tions fluttered  to  his  feet.     His  eye  was  arrested  by  a  sen- 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  119 

tence  in  the  latter  part  of  the  revelation  on  celestial  mar- 
riages.    He  read  these  words  : 

"And  again,  verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  if  a  man  have 
a  wife,  who  holds  the  keys  of  this  power,  and  he  teaches 
unto  her  the  laws  of  my  priesthood,  as  pertaining  to  these 
things,  then  shall  she  believe  and  administer  unto  him,  or 
she  shall  be  destroyed,  saith  the  Lord  your  God.  For  I  will 
destroy  her,  for  I  will  magnify  my  name  upon  all  those  who 
receive  and  abide  in  my  law." 

Elder  Northfield  read  these  words  and  he  was  himself 
again.  He  had  almost  yielded  to  the  temptation  of  his 
wife's  entreaties,  but  was  saved  as  by  a  miracle  from  falling 
again  a  victim  to  the  nobleness  of  his  own  heart.  Still  he 
was  pitiful  and  tender,  but  determined.  "  My  darling,"  said 
he,  "  your  pleadings  correspond  with  my  own  inclinations, 
and  I  had  almost  yielded  to  the  temptation,  and  thus  ruined 
our  hope  for  eternity,  but  this  piece  of  paper  has  saved  me. 
Believe  me,  I  never  loved  you  more  than  I  do  now,  and  if 
I  did  not  love  you  thus,  I  might  relent,  for,  dearest,  you 
cannot  know  how  hard  it  is  for  me  to  refuse  you.  I  would 
willingly  sacrifice  everything  in  this  life  for  myself  to  save 
you  this  pain ;  but  how  can  I  sacrifice  everything  in  the 
next  life  for  us  both  to  grant  your  request?  My  poor 
Marion !  Try  to  not  think  hard  of  me ;  try  to  love  me  just 
the  same  ;  try  to  believe  that  it  is  not  my  wish  to  bring  this 
trouble  upon  ycy,  and  I  will  make  it  as  light  as  I  can.  My 
love  shall  always  be  yours  and  yours  alone.  I  only  think 
of  this  as  a  painful  duty  which  must  be  fulfilled." 

He  took  Marion's  cold  hand  closely  in  his,  but  there  was 
no  answering  pressure,  and  her  lips  could  not  form  the  answer 
he  craved.  Her  affection  had  received  almost  its  death- 
blow, and  days  passed  during  which  she  scarcely  spoke  or 
had  strength  to  walk  about  the  house.  She  sat  in  an  easy- 
chair  or  reclined  on  her  sofa,  and  seemed  not  to  realize  what 


120  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;    OR, 

was  going  on  around  her.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  her 
boy  had  no  power  to  interest  her,  and  his  loving  prattle  fell 
unheeded  on  her  ear.  If  her  husband  approached  her  she 
gave  no  sign  of  pleasure;  when  he  left  her  she  showed  no 
regret.  Her  senses  were  stunned,  and  she  was  capable  of  but 
little  emotion.  But  as  her  strength  gradually  returned,  her 
realization  of  the  situation  came  back  to  her.  Hearts  may 
break,  all  human  hopes  may  die,  all  interest  in  life  depart, 
and  yet  the  body  will  live  on;  and  one  may  wish  for  death, 
and  wish  in  vain. 

Marion's  friend,  Mrs.  Atwood,  heard  of  her  illness,  and 
divining  the  cause  hastened  to  her  to  offer  comfort  and  sym- 
pathy. It  was  what  Marion  needed.  She  had  her  husband's 
sympathy  and  pity,  but  she  did  not  care  for  that.  It  was  no 
comfort  to  her.  How  could  he  know  what  she  suffered? 
But  this  woman  had  been  through  the  gUme  trial,  and  could 
offer  genuine  sympathy  from  the  sadness  of  her  own  heart. 
How  she  wept  for  Marion's  grief,  and  Marion  wept,  too. 
These  were  the  first  tears  she  had  shed  since  that  evening, 
which  now  seemed  so  long  ago.  But  they  did  her  good,  and 
soon  she  was  able  to  be  again  about  the  house,  but  was  the 
very  ghost  of  her  former  self,  with  no  interest,  no  animation, 
no  pleasure  in  anything. 

It  made  Elder  Northfield's  heart  ache  to  see  how  she  suf- 
fered, but  yet  he  did  not  reproach  himself  at  all  as  being  the 
cause.  And  he  expected  that  soon  she  would  be  more  re- 
signed and  cheerful.  There  had  passed  no  word  between 
them  on  the  subject  during  the  time,  but  he  had  been  goaded 
on  by  the  authorities  to  the  immediate  consummation  of  his 
intention,  and  now  felt  obliged  to  speak  again  to  her  on  the 
subject.  He  said  he  had  no  one  in  view  for  a  wife,  and  asked 
her  if  she  had  any  choice  in  the  matter;  if  so,  he  would  en- 
deavor to  gratify  her  wishes.  He  told  her  then  how  matters 
had  stood  with  him  for  years,  and  how  he  had  fought  against 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  121 

it,  both  with  his  advisers  and  himself;  how  at  last  he  was 
obliged  b}^  Brigham  Young's  command  to  marry,  and  that 
without  delay. 

"  I  have  no  choice,"  said  Marion,  "  and  only  one  request, 
that  you  say  no  more  to  me  about  it,  but  do  as  you  will, 
only  give  her  a  house  of  her  own.  You  can  afford  it,  so 
please  do  not  bring  her  here." 

"It  shall  be  as  you  say,  Marion,"  and  the  subject  was 
dropped. 

The  dut}'  of  finding  a  woman  who  was  willing  to  enter 
into  matrimony  on  short  notice  now  occupied  Elder  North- 
field's  attention;  but  he  had  little  difficulty,  for  Brother 
Brigham  was  always  an  efficient  helper  in  such  matters,  and 
he  had  a  blooming  young  woman,  by  the  name  of  Helen 
Crosby,  already  for  him,  and  all  counselled  to  marry.  As 
Elder  Northfield  was  an  attractive  person,  and  his  worldly 
prospects  all  that  could  be  desired,  the  candidate  for  his  affec- 
tions made  no  opposition  to  his  suit,  and  the  pathway  began 
to  grow  smooth  to  his  feet.' 

Certainly  it  was  pleasanter  to  sit  and  converse  with  the 
gay  and  sprightly  Miss  Crosby  than  to  spend  his  evenings 
with  his  sad-faced  wife,  who  scarcely  ever  spoke,  except  to 
her  boy  or  in  answer  to  some  question.  Her  apparent  wretch- 
edness was  a  continual  reproach,  and  the  hours  spent  in  her 
society  were  anything  but  a  pleasure  to  him.  Still  he  kindly 
tried,  by  every  means  in  his  power,  to  soften  her  grief,  till 
he  saw  that  it  w^as  useless,  and  no  effort  of  his  could  lift  the 
veil  of  sadness  from  her  heart.  He  became  discouraged,  and 
decided  that  all  he  could  do  was  to  leave  it  to  time  to  bring 
about  a  change. 

He  now  devoted  himself  quite  zealously  to  his  betrothed. 
He  must  not  marry  in  ignorance  of  his  intended  bride's 
qualities,  disposition,  etc.,  and  as  time  was  short,  it  must  be 
improved.    So  evening,  after  evening  found  him  in  Helen's 


122  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;    OR, 

parlor,  and  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  time  slipped  rapidly 
away,  until  a  late  hour,  very  often.  There  was  no  love  be- 
stowed upon  her,  of  course,  for  his  love  was  always  to  be 
Marion's,  and  Marion's  alone.  This  duty,  that  had  caused 
him  so  many  sleepless  nights,  so  much  grief,  that  had  been 
undertaken  at  last  almost  by  compulsion,  was  becoming  less 
painful,  and  was  performed  with  commendable  alacrity  and 
diligence. 

In  a  word.  Elder  Korthfield  became  quite  infatuated  with 
his  betrothed.  He  never  had  believed  any  other  woman  but 
Marion  could  ever  have  his  love,  but  without  his  realizing  it 
this  woman  had  gained  an  influence  over  him  which  he 
would  never  have  thought  possible.  Her  slightest  wish  was 
law  to  him.  She  could  make  him  happy  by  a  word  or  ex- 
tremely uncomfortable  by  a  look.  She  enjoyed  exercising 
her  power  over  him,  and  was  in  no  haste  to  enter  the  matri- 
monial state,  lest  the  present  agreeable  state  of  things  be- 
come changed. 

And  during  this  time  Marion  saw  all.  She  knew  all  that 
was  transpiring,  though  no  word  was  spoken.  She  knew  her 
husband  had  lost  the  look  of  trouble  and  perplexity  he  had 
worn  so  long,  and  that  his  sorrow  for  her  grief  was  forgotten. 
Although  never  actually  unkind  to  her,  yet  he  was  very  un- 
mindful of  her,  and  she  knew  her  place  in  his  affections  had 
been  usurped  by  another.  She  avoided  seeing  him  leave  the 
house,  evening  after  evening,  in  such  a  pleasant  preoccupied 
way,  that  told  so  much.  A  thousand  little  actions  of  his 
were  like  fresh  stabs  to  her  already  bleeding  heart.  No  little 
loving  attentions,  like  those  of  former  days,  were  attempted 
now,  and  Marion  could  not  have  received  them,  if  they  had 
been  offered  her.  Her  husband  was  her  own  no  longer.  She 
felt  as  though  she  were  divorced  from  him.  It  was  not  enough 
that  he  should  take  another  wife,  as  a  matter  of  duty,  but  he 
had  also  transferred  his  affections  to  her,  and  Marion  was  no 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  123 

longer  loved  by  her  husband.  An  unloved  wife  was  she  now, 
and  she  drank  the  cup  of  bitterness  to  the  dregs.  As  long 
as  her  husband  loved  her  the  darkness  was  not  quite  com- 
plete, although  she  had  thought  it  could  not  be  greater,  but 
now  all  she  could  hope  and  wish  for  was  death.  She  prayed 
that  God  in  his  mercy  would  take  her  and  her  boy  from  the 
bitterness  of  this  life  and  give  them  rest  and  peace.  She 
never  complained,  and  her  husband,  when  he  thought  of  her 
at  all,  thought  she  was  getting  resigned,  and  would  in  time 
"get  used  to  it,"  as  other  wives  did. 

And  when  he  told  her  that  on  the  following  day  he  was  to 
be  married  to  Helen  Crosby,  he  was  gratified  to  observe  no 
indication  of  pain  at  the  information.  He  did  not  know  that 
she  had  come  to  that  point  where  she  could  suffer  no  more ; 
that  her  heart  had  become  seared  with  its  burning  and  pain. 
He  asked  her  if  she  felt  able  to  go  with  him  to  the  Endow- 
ment House  and  perform  her  part  in  the  ceremony,  and  she 
answered  that  she  would  go.  He  kissed  her  and  called  her 
his  brave  wife,  but  his  words  and  caress  seemed  but  mockery 
to  her,  and  she  shrank  from  them. 

On  the  following  day  she  gave  her  husband  a  second  wife. 
She  placed  the  hand  of  Helen  Crosby  in  his,  and  he  was 
married  to  her  for  time  and  eternity.  There  was  no  essen- 
tial difference  between  the  bridegroom  of  that  occasion  and 
the  bridegroom  of  Gentile  life.  There  was  no  reason  to  think 
the  young  pair  were  not  in  the  same  blissful  state  of  mind 
commonly  supposed  to  belong  to  their  existing  circum- 
stances. Very  happy  the  bride  seemed  to  be,  and  what  was 
it  to  them  that  a  woman,  once  far  lovelier  and  fairer  than 
she,  and  of  a  much  nobler  nature,  stood  by  their  side  a 
crushed,  a  wretched  being?  They  did  not  know  it.  Their 
fascination  for  each  other  completely  blinded  them  to  every- 
thing else.  Had  it  not  been  so,  neither  could  have  been  so 
heartless. 


124  ELDER   XORTIIFIELD's   HOME  ;    OR, 

In  the  days  that  followed,  Marion  saw  very  little  of  her 
husband.  For  this  she  did  not  care,  now  that  he  was 
hers  no  longer  ;  but  those  who  frequented  the  ball-room,  the 
theatre,  and  the  social  entertainments,  saw  him  with  his 
bride  among  the  gayest  of  the  gay.  He  had  obeyed  divine 
commands  and  was  now  happy.  His  conscience  was  at  rest, 
and  life  was  now  a  pleasure  to  him. 

About  this  time  Marion  received  a  letter  from  her  sister. 
It  was  written  on  the  anniversary  of  Marion's  wedding-day, 
and  much  was  said  in  it  about  the  lives  of  both  since  their 
separation.  Elsie  tenderly  referred  to  the  loss  of  her  little 
namesake,  but  congratulated  Marion  that  her  life  had  been 
free  from  the  trouble  that  she  and  tlieir  aunt  had  so  strongly 
apprehended.  She  acknowledged  the  injustice  done  Marion's 
husband  in  believing  he  would  be  untrue  to  her,  and  spoke 
in  glowing  terms  of  the  force  of  character  he  proved  to  pos- 
sess to  enable  him  to  stand  firm  for  the  right  in  the  midst 
of  such  overwhelming  influence.  She  said:  "Now,  Marion, 
after  all  these  years  have  passed  and  still  you  are  the  first 
and  only  one  in  your  husband's  affections,  I  can  lay  aside 
my  fears  for  you  and  believe  that  you  were  right  in  trusting 
60  implicitly  in  his  word.  I  feel  hke  begging  his  pardon 
for  misjudging  him  in  the  way  I  did."  Then  she  confided 
to  her  sister  the  events  of  her  own  life  — the  emotions  of  her 
own  heart.  Happily  had  passed  the  years  with  her  at  her 
aunt's  home,  and  now  a  new  joy  had  come  into  her  life — a 
new  gift  was  bestowed  upon  her.  It  was  the  love  and  de- 
votion of  one  of  God's  noblemen,  and  Elsie  was  soon  to 
unite  her  destiny  w^ith  his  in  marriage.  The  wedding-day 
was  appointed,  "  and,"  wTote  Elsie,  "  the  only  impediment 
to  my  perfect  happiness  on  that  day  will  be  the  absence  of 
my  sister  Marion.  But  I  know^  her  thoughts  will  be  w4th 
me,  and  with  all  her  heart  and  soul  she  will  wish  me  joy, 
although  I  cannot  hear  her  lips  express   her  sentiments. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  125 

Think  of  me  that  day,  darling  sister,  and  pray  that  I  may 
be  as  faithful  a  wife  as  you  have  been,  and  that  my  hus- 
band's devotion  may  continue  through  the  coming  years  as 
Elder  Northfield's  devotion  has  endured  for  you." 

At  the  reading  of  this  letter  Marion  was  taken  out  of  her- 
self, and  her  sister's  interests  were  hers  for  the  time.  But  0 ! 
the  bitterness  of  her  heart  as  she  read  the  undeserved  praises 
of  her  husband  and  realized  that  her  aunt's  predictions  were 
fulfilled,  and  that  haunting  spectre  of  her  life,  which,  how- 
ever, she  never  believed  would  take  its  abode  in  her  home, 
had  at  last  blighted  her  life  as  it  had  so  many  before  her. 
By  accident,  as  she  was  leaving  the  room,  and  unnoticed  by 
her,  the  letter  dropped  from  her  hands,  which  were  filled 
with  letters  and  papers.  Elder  Northfield  entered,  and  ob- 
serving the  post-mark,  opened  and  read  the  letter.  He 
could  not  tell  why  he  did  so,  for  he  usually  avoided  Elsie's 
letters,  but  this  one  he  read  from  beginning  to  end.  He 
heartily  wdshed  he  had  not,  however,  for  it  made  him  very 
uncomfortable.  He  could  not  get  it  out  of  his  mind,  and 
although  he  sought  the  companionship  of  his  bride  to  dispel 
his  uneasiness,  yet  the  effects  of  that  letter  lasted  many  a 
day. 

Marion's  callers  had  become  very  infrequent,  in  conse- 
quence of  her  seclusion  from  all  society ;  but  now,  since  the 
great  change  in  their  lives,  she  had  often  to  go  through  the 
ordeal  of  entertaining  company.  Some  came  to  ofier  sym- 
pathy and  comfort.  Among  this  class  were  Mrs.  Atwood, 
the  wives  of  Elder  Atkins,  and  Carrie  Parker.  Carrie  could 
now  sympathize  with  her,  for  she  had  tasted  of  the  cup  of 
sorrow,  and  her  once  fond  husband  had  added  another  wife 
to  his  list,  another  jewel  to  his  crown,  another  subject  to  his 
kingdom,  and  Carrie  was  ruthlessly  thrust  aside.  She  now 
devoted  herself  to  the  children  she  had  taken  to  her  heart, 
and  in  them  she  found  much  comfort.     There  were  other 


126  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME  ;   OR, 

callers  who  came  or  were  sent  to  labor  with  Marion  to  recon- 
cile her  to  her  lot  and  exhort  her  to  submission  and  religions 
devotion.  And  still  another  class,  who  came  out  of  curiosity 
to  see  how  the  rebellious  wife  appeared,  and  "  whether  she 
would  now  hold  up  her  head  and  boast  that  her  husband 
would  never  be  a  polygamist."  Among  this  class  came  two 
of  the  Mrs.  Smiths,  Ellen  and  Josephine,  and  they  were 
hardened  enough  to  taunt  her  of  her  faith  in  her  husband. 
Marion's  heart  had  been  too  dead  to  be  stirred  by  anger,  but 
this  insult  awakened  her  indignation  and  resentment.  A 
new  life  seemed  to  be  given  her.  Her  blood  boiled  and 
surged  through  her  veins  till  it  seemed  that  it  was  turned  to 
fire.  Her  eyes  kindled,  her  pale  cheeks  crimsoned,  and 
Marion  was  changed.  Her  visitors  departed,  astonished  and 
not  a  little  taken  aback.  The  change  in  her  was  too  great 
for  even  her  husband  not  to  observe  it.  He  had  meant  to 
tell  her  of  his  intention  of  bringing  Helen  there  on  the  fol- 
lowing day  that  his  wives  might  become  acquainted,  but 
something  in  her  voice  and  looks  deterred  him  from  pro- 
posing that  she  make  some  friendly  advances  towards  the 
new  wife  as  he  had  intended.  But  in  a  few  days  he  told  her 
of  his  wish  to  bring  Helen  there  for  a  call,  and  requested 
that  she  would  receive  her  graciously.  He  took  close  obser- 
vation of  his  wife  now,  and  gave  her  more  thought  and  at- 
tention than  he  had  before  since  Helen  had  first  occupied  his 
mind.  He  was  shocked  to  see  how  changed  she  was.  Her 
eyes  had  lost  their  pleasant  light,  and  her  lips  were  drawn 
as  with  great  suffering.  Her  cheeks  were  thin  and  hollow, 
and  were  either  deadly  pale  or  glowing  with  the  excitement 
of  inward  pain.  He  thought  of  his  beautiful  and  happy 
bride  of  five  years  before,  and  to  his  credit  it  may  be  said 
that  he  was  touched  by  feelings  of  remorse. 

Marion  said,  "  Bring  her  if  you  wish,"  but  she  did  not  care 
to  make  any  attempt  towards  cultivating  an  acquaintance. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  127 

Her  husband  thought  she  was  trying  to  be  reconciled  and 
would  overcome  her  sadness  in  time.  He  pitied  her  now 
that  lie  thought  of  her,  and  sought  to  make  their  conversa- 
tion cheerful.  It  was  his  first  heartfelt  attention  for  a  long 
time,  but  it  only  made  Marion  more  miserable,  for  it  soft- 
ened the  hardness  of  her  heart  and  rendered  her  more  sensi- 
tive to  grief.  She  could  have  borne  insult  better,  for  anger 
would  have  stifled  more  torturing  emotions. 


128  ELDER  NORTHFIELD's  HOME;   OR, 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MARION  had  consented  to  the  bringing  of  the  second 
wife  into  her  home,  but  she  felt  that  she  could  not 
endure  the  painful  ordeal  that  was  expected  of  her.  She 
grew  almost  frantic  as  she  paced  her  chamber  till  the  small 
hours  of  the  night.  She  longed  for  escape.  She  could  not 
remain  in  that  house  after  it  had  been  polluted  by  the  en- 
trance of  her  husband's  new  wife.  She  resolved  to  take  her 
child  and  steal  away  in  the  darkness,  make  her  way  out  of 
the  city  in  the  direction  of  Southern  Utah,  and  journey  cau- 
tiously and  secretly  to  the  house  of  the  man  who  befriended 
one  wretched  woman  in  her  trouble.  He  would  help  her 
out  of  the  Territory,  she  felt  sure,  and  she  would  go  into  the 
Gentile  world — not  among  her  friends — no,  Elsie  should 
never  know  her  situation,  no  matter  what  she  suffered.  She 
and  aunt  Wells  must  never  know  of  her  humiliation  and 
trouble,  if  they  never  heard  from  her  again.  Elsie  was  very 
happy  now,  and  her  happiness  should  not  be  clouded  by  her 
sister's  trouble.  In  the  Gentile  world,  among  strangers,  she 
would  find  employment,  and  there  rear  her  little  son  away 
from  all  Mormon  influences.  Her  husband  would  not  care. 
He  did  not  love  her,  and  she  did  not  love  him  now.  She 
woke  her  slumbering  boy  with  difficulty.  He  thrust  his 
fists  into  his  big  blue  eyes  and  rubbed  them  till  the  tears 
came.  His  mother  told  him  wonderful  stories  to  keep  him 
awake,  while  she  combed  his  long  curly  locks  and  washed 
his  chubby  face.  She  dressed  him  with  all  a  mother's  care, 
and  then  made  up  a  bundle  of  a  few  necessary  articles  of 
clothing. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORrilON   ALTAR.  120 

"Forest,"  said  slic,  "  clo  you  want  to  go  with  mamma  to 
see  Mrs.  Atwood?  " 

"O  yes,  mamma!  and  Ella  and  Robbie,  too.  Cut  why 
don't  you  wait  till  morning?     I'm  so  sleepy." 

"  It  is  morning,  dear,  but  very  early ;  and  I  do  not  want  to 
disturb  the  rest,  so  my  boy  must  be  very  still." 

"  I'll  be  very  still,"  said  he,  "  and  I'll  take  my  new  cart  in 
the  carriage  and  show  it  to  Robbie,  and  we'll  play  with 
it." 

But  in  spite  of  Forest's  promises,  tvro  or  tliree  peals  of 
laughter  escaped  him,  as  he  thought  and  talked  of  the  fun 
he  was  to  have  with  Robbie. 

Clarion  was  alarmed  lest  he  had  av/akened  the  house,  but 
lier  fears  were  groundless,  and  with  what  money  she  had  in 
her  possession,  her  jewelry,  and  her  bundle,  they  quietly  de- 
scended the  stairs,  and  carefully  undoing  the  fastenings  of 
one  of  the  outer  doors,  they  stood  free,  with  only  the  blue 
sky  above  them. 

"  Why,  mamma,  where  is  the  carriage  and  where  is  papa?  " 
asked  Forest. 

"  Hush,  my  child,  we  are  going  to  walk,  and  papa  is  not 
going  with  us." 

"  Then  I  can't  carry  my  little  cart." 

"0,  yes,  you  can;  we  will  draw  it,"  said  Marion,  willing 
to  do  anything  to  hush  the  child. 

She  procured  the  cart  in  great  fear  of  being  discovered, 
and  carried  it  with  one  arm,  in  spite  of  its  weight,  lest  the 
sound  of  its  wheels  should  be  heard,  and  with  the  other  hand 
almost  dragged  her  child  along.  When  the}''  had  proceeded 
some  distance,  she  put  it  on  the  ground  and  they  drew  it, 
and  soon  as  Forest  grew  tired  and  sleepy,  she  persuaded  him 
to  leave  it  by  the  roadside,  and  then  they  hastened  on. 

She  felt  that  she  must  see  her  friend,  Mrs.  Atwood,  again, 
and  thither  she  was  going  to  bid  her  farav/ell.  She  had  some 
9 


130  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;   OR, 

difficulty  in  arousing  the  inmates  of  the  house,  but  finally 
succeeded.  Mr.  Atwood  was  not  at  home,  Marion  knew. 
He  with  his  second  wife  had  gone  on  a  visit  to  her  friends, 
and  Forest  was  much  disappointed  to  learn  that  Robbie  had 
gone  with  his  mother.  Had  they  been  at  home,  Marion 
would  not  have  dared  approach  their  cottage. 

Mrs.  Atwood  was  astonished  and  alarmed  to  receive  a  visit 
from  her  friend  at  that  unseasonable  hour,  but  she  gave  her 
a  kind  welcome. 

Marion  was  so  exhausted  with  her  excitement  and  long, 
hurried  walk,  that  she  could  hardly  speak. 

Mrs.  Atwood  kindly  bade  her  not  to  try  to  talk,  but  rest  a 
few  moments,  and  then  tell  what  had  brought  her  there. 

She  obeyed,  and  as  her  glance  wandered  around  the  room 
it  rested  on  more  than  one  reminder  of  her  happier  life  in 
the. cottage  she  had  just  passed.  There  were  the  books  she 
had  given  Ella  from  which  to  learn  to  read.  These  reminded 
her  of  her  little  school,  that  was  such  a  pleasure  to  her. 
Here  was  a  picture,  sketched  by  her  one  leisure  afternoon  ; 
and  now  her  eyes  rested  on  a  picture  of  herself  and  husband, 
taken  long  ago,  when  they  were  happy  and  true  to  each 
other. 

She  reached  out  her  hand  and  asked  for  it.  Her  friend 
gave  it  to  her.  Her  eyes  were  riveted  on  that  face,  beaming 
with  tenderness  and  love.  His  expression  had  changed  since 
the  days  there  portrayed.  Marion  could  not  take  her  eyes 
from  that  face. 

"He  loved  me  then,"  she  murmured. 

"  Yes,  and  he  will  love  you  again,"  said  her  friend. 

"  Do  you  believe  that?  "  asked  Marion. 

"  I  do,  and  think  he  will  come  to  his  senses  sooner  or 
later,  and  realize  that  his  infatuation  for  Helen  is  only  an 
infatuation,  and  that  it  is  only  Marion  whom  he  really 
loves." 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  131 

Into  Marion's  heart  there  came  a  gleam  of  hope  at  the 
thouglit. 

'•  If  I  could  have  helieved  tliat,"  said  she,  "  I  should  not 
have  heen  here  now.  I  would  Avait  patiently  for  yenrs,  ar:d 
endure  almost  anything,  if  I  knew  he  would  cc  n.e  back  to 
me  at  last,  and  be  mine  alone  again — if  we  could  have  the 
same  happ}^  life  we  lived  in  that  little  cottage  yonder.  But 
it  never  can  be  !  " 

Then  she  told  Mrs.  Atwood  of  her  project,  and  that  she 
had  come  to  bid  her  a  final  farewell. 

"  My  poor,  dear  friend,''  said  Mrs.  Atwood,  "  you  must  not 
think  of  anything  so  rash.  In  your  condition  you  will 
perish  before  you  can  complete  such  a  journey,  and  with 
that  little  bo}^  you  will  surely  fail  in  your  attempt.  Wait 
till  you  are  better  able  to  undertake  it,  and  if  you  are  not 
less  unhapp}^,  I  will  help  you  all  I  can  to  get  away  from 
Mormon  life.  But,  Marion,  I  believe  brighter  days  are  com- 
ing for  you.  It  is  always  darkest  just  before  the  day,  you 
know.  Nettie's  husband  repented  of  his  neglect  to  her,  you 
know,  even  though  at  the  eleventh  hour.  But  his  repent- 
ance is  sincere,  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt,  and  another  man 
may  repent  at  an  earlier  hour.  Your  husband  may  be  that 
man,  Marion.     I  have  hope  for  you  yet." 

And  Marion  began  to  have  hope  for  herself. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "he  may  repent  at  my  dying  bed;  that 
would  be  worth  a  great  deal.  Would  it  be  worth  waiting  a 
lifetime  for,  or  will  my  life  be  a  short  one,  as  I  sometimes 
think  and  hope?  If  he  should  repent  in  time  to  give  me  a 
little  happiness  before  I  die,  it  would  be  worth  living  for." 

Marion  had  thought  all  love  for  her  husband  had  died  in 
her  heart,  but  at  sight  of  his  picture,  old  memories  were  re- 
vived, and  her  old  love  with  them.  She  felt  now  that  slie 
could  not  leave  her  husband.  She  loved  him  still,  and  would 
patiently  wait  and  hope  to  win  him  back  to  herself. 


132  ELDER   yORTIIFIELD's    HOME  ;   OR, 

"When  day  dawned  ^Mrs.  Atwood  procured  a  carriafre  and 
■went  witli  Marion  and  Forest  to  their  home.  But  Marion's 
cxliaiistion  proved  too  much  for  her  endurance,  and  i<he  was 
laid  upon  a  sick-bed,  wliich  she  did  not  leave  for  many- 
weeks.  But  in  spite  of  her  pain,  her  weakness,  and  bodily 
suffering,  the  load  of  misery  was  lifted,  in  a  great  degree, 
from  her  heart. 

It  seemed  strange,  as  she  recovered  her  consciousness,  to 
find  her  husband  by  her  side.  It  seemed  like  the  times  of 
long  ago  ;  0,  so  long  ago  !  She  w^ondered  if  the  past  had  not 
been  a  terrible  dream.  In  her  weakness  she  could  not  com- 
prehend the  situation.  But  one  thing  she  knew,  he  was  1  y 
her  side  and  was  tenderly  caring  for  her,  almost  constantly. 
She  tried  to  realize  that  and  forget  everything  else.  But  she 
could  not  help  wondering,  if  the  past  was  a  realit\',  why  he 
remained  away  from  Helen  so  much.  Had  he  repented,  as 
Nettie's  husband  did?  Was  he  ready  now  to  grant  her  re- 
quest, and  leave  Helen  and  all  tlie  Mormons  and  go  to  the 
Gentile  world?  0  the  joy  of  the  moment  when  Marion 
allowed  herself  to  believe  such  was  the  case! 

"Henry,"  she  faintly  wdnspered. 

''  Marion,  my  darling  !  Thank  God  you  can  speak  to  me 
again,"  said  he. 

Marion  closed  her  eyes  and  repeated  his  words  over  and 
over  again  to  herself.  The  words  "  my  darling  "  had  never 
sounded  so  sweet  to  her  before.  It  had  been  long  since  she 
had  heard  them  and  seen  in  the  speaker's  face  the  old  look 
'of  fondness,  but  it  was  there  now%  and  his  tones  were  full  of 
tenderness.  He  had  given  her  back  the  love  he  had  taken 
from  her.  ]\Irs.  Atwood's  predictions  were  fulfilled,  and 
sooner  than  either  thouij^ht  possible.  He  was  hers  now,  she 
knew;  was  he  hers  alone?  O,  could,  it  l)c  that  another 
shared  his  heart?  She  had  never  asked  him  a  question 
about  Helen,  and  could  not  now.  But  she  felt  unable  to 
bear  the  suspense,  and  hoping  to  end  it,  said : 


CACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  133 

"  Have  you  come  back  to  me  ?  " 

He  understood  her,  and  lest  she  should  hope  for  too  much, 
said  : 

"  Yes,  my  dear  Marion,  my  love  is  all  yours  now.  God 
forgive  me  for  my  past  neglect,  and  3^ou  shall  be  the  first  and 
only  one  in  my  heart,  as  you  are  now.  I  must  not  wrong 
others,  but  duty  alone  will  prompt  any  attentions  to 
another." 

Then  ]\rarion  knew  her. husband  had  not  given  up  his 
other  wife,  had  not  given  up  his  religion,  and  they  were  not 
to  leave  Utah  after  all.  She  was  bitterly  disappointed,  for 
she  had  hoped  so  much  a  few  moments  before. 

Elder  Northfield  saw  it  all,  and  said,  gently : 

"  When  you  are  stronger,  dear,  we  will  talk  more  of  this; 
but  now  do  you  not  wish  to  see  Forest  and  our  little  baby 
girl?" 

"  0  yes,  my  baby !  I  must  see  my  baby.  Bring  her  to 
me." 

The  mother-love  had  for  a  time  overcome  her  disappoint- 
ment, and  as  a  little  soft  cheek  was  laid  against  hers,  and 
j>he  felt  the  pressure  of  baby  hands,  life  yet  had  its  charms 
for  her,  and  she  was  far  from  wishing  now  that  she  and 
Forest  might  die.  She  saw  tliat  her  little  one  had  the  deep 
dark  eyes  and  black  curly  hair  of  its  father,  and  was  glad  it 
was  so. 

"  We  have  called  her  Marion.  Shall  that  be  her  name— 
chall  we  have  a  little  Marion?  " 

Marion  was  pleased  at  this  token  of  affection,  and  said: 

''If  you  wish  it." 

"  ]  do,  for  INIarion  is  the  sweetest  name  to  me.  Now,  shaU 
I  take  bah 7  away  and  bring  Forest  to  see  you  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  let  me  see  my  little  boy.  Where  has  he  been  all 
this  time?" 

But  he  was  in  the  room  before  they  could  call  him. 


134  ELDER   NORTIIFIELd's   HOME;    OR, 

"MaiTima!  nianima ! "  said  lie,  "  tliey  "wouldn't  let  mc 
come  to  see  you.  Tlicy  said  I  would  make  a  nijise — and 
see  how  still  I  am !  Papa  stays  liere  now  all  the  time,  dont 
he,  mamma  ?  and  he  sa3'S  next  time  we  go  to  Mrs.  Atwood's 
he  will  go  with  us,  and  we  will  ride.  And  he  tried  to  find 
my  cart,  and  it  was  all  gone,  and  I  couldn't  'member  Avhere 
v/e  put  it.     Can't  you  find  it,  mamma?  " 

Her  little  son's  words  revived  all  that  had  passed  during 
that  wretched  night  that  she  had  attempted  to  run  away 
from  her  husband.  She  felt  to  thank  God  now  that  she  had 
been  prevented.  Had  slie  accomplished  her  object,  she 
would  never  have  known  the  blessedness  of  this  restoration. 
Her  life  would  always  have  been  dark;  but  now  there  was 
hope  for  her.  She  was  exhausted  now,  and  several  days 
passed  before  the  subject  of  their  estrangement  was  again 
brought  up.  Then  INfarion  was  stronger  and  better  aljle  to 
bear  it,  and  her  husband  spoke  freely  to  her  about  Helen 
and  his  relation  to  her. 

"  How  I  ever  became  so  taken  up  with  her  I  cannot  tell. 
At  first  I  went  there  from  a  sense  of  duty  alone,  but  some- 
how or  other  she  gained  a  great  power  and  influence  over 
nie.  I  was  fairly  intoxicated  with  my  infatuation  for  her 
and  knew  nothing  else.  J  do  not  think  I  really  loved  her. 
It  seems  to  me  I  could  not  have  been  in  my  right  mind  ; 
but  after  a  time  the  scales  began  to  fall  from  my  eyes,  and  I 
saw  that  she  had  never  appreciated  my  devotion  to  her  and 
delighted  only  in  the  power  and  position  she  had  ol)tained. 
I  came  home  and  found  my  Marion  too  sick  to  know  me 
and  too  weak  to  raise  her  hand.  The  sight  of  my  poor 
brokenhearted  wife  brought  me  back  to  my  senses.  God 
only  knows  tb.e  anguish  of  remorse  and  penitence  that  I  suf- 
fered, as  I  realized  what  I  had  done.  From  that  time, 
Marion,  I  have  tried  to  atone  for  my  cruelty  to  you,  by 
watching  and  caring  for  you,  hoping  to  bring  you  back  to 


SACRIFICED    ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  135 

life  and  health,  for,  darling,  I  feared  I  had  killed  you.  I 
feared  3^011  would  never  speak  to  me  again,  and  3^ou  can- 
not know  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you  growing  stronger  every 
day.  Now,  Marion,  can  you  forgive  me  and  be  happy 
again  ?  " 

"  I  can  forgive  you  with  all  my  heart,  and  I  think  I  can 
be  happy.  I  thought  once  that  it  would  be  sufficient  to 
make  me  miserable  for  life  to  have  you  take  another  wife, 
even  if  it  was  only  as  a  duty;  but  since  I  lost  your  love, 
and  was  utterly  forsaken  for  her,  I  know  that  I  could  bear  a 
part  of  the  load,  if  only  the  heaviest  need  not  be  laid  upon 
me.  O,  Henry !  You  know  not  my  wretchedness,  as  I  felt 
forsaken  and  alone  with  only  my  boy  to  love  me.  You 
know  not  how  I  longed  and  prayed  that  I  might  die  and 
rest  from  my  misery.  I  felt  that  I  could  not  bear  the  ordeal 
of  meeting  Helen,  and  so  I  stole  away.  But  I  am  glad,  0 
so  glad,  that  I  am  back  again,  and  to  prove  how  freely  I  for- 
give you,  I  will  try  to  make  friends  with  Helen  if  you 
w^ish." 

"  Not  at  present,  Marion.  Some  time  when  you  are  well 
and  strong  I  would  be  glad  to  have  you  become  acquainted, 
for  she,  too,  is  my  wife,  you  know  "  (Marion  could  not  hear 
these  words  without  shrinking  and  disputing  them  to  her- 
self), "  and  I  have  a  duty  to  perform  towards  her  as  well  as 
towards  you.  I  have  neglected  her  almost  entirely  since 
you  have  been  ill,  and  she  is  quite  angry  with  me,  and  not 
without  some  cause.  I  do  not  think  my  neglect  could  ever 
grieve  her  as  it  has  you,  yet  I  have  no  doubt  she  has  been 
very  lonely,  and  I  am  sorry  for  her;  but  still  my  Marion 
has  needed  me  most,  and  needs  me  most  now ;  and  hence- 
forth, though  I  have  two  wives  and  must  do  justice  to  both, 
my  attentions  to  Helen  shall  be  limited  by  my  convictions 
of  duty.  Beyond  that  I  will  never  go ;  but  you  will  see 
yourself  that  it  would  be  cruel  to  her  to  neglect  her  entirely, 
and  I  am  sure  you  would  not  wish  me  to  do  that." 


136  ELDER   NORTIiriELD's   HOME  ;    OR, 

''No.  Now  tliat  you  have  made  her  your  Avife  yon  must 
trv  to  do  ^^;l•lt.  But  how  can  a  man  do  liis  duty  to  one 
wife  without  neglecting  the  other?  I  think  it  impossible, 
and  if  you  try  to  do  justice  we  shall  each  have  a  cross  to 
hear;  hut  I  will  try  to  bear  mine  patiently,  for  it  is  now  so 
much  lighter.  It  does  not  crush  me  now.  The  heaviest 
part  of  the  hurden  is  removed,  and  I  can  hear  the  rest.  But 
shall  I  tell  you  what  I  thought  when  I  first  realized  that 
you  were  with  me  again  ?  I  thought  you  had  repented  of  it 
all  — that  you  had  at  last  seen  your  error,  and  had  forsaken 
Helen  and  Mormonism  and  were  ready  to  leave  everything 
hcne  and  go  with  me  to  the  Gentile  world.  0  how  happy 
the  thought  made  me !  " 

"I  almost  wish  it  were  right,  Marion,  for  your  sake — you 
are  so  unhappy  here — and  I  would  gladly  do  so.  But  I 
cannot  helieve  that  there  is  any  true  religion,  except  this 
one.  It  is  God's  last  revelation,  nnd  though  the  majority  of 
tho,  world  does  not  accept  it,  God's  chosen  people  were 
always  a  little  flock,  and  if  I  desert  the  cause  I  liave  es' 
ponsed  and  refuse  to  walk  in  the  light  given  me  I  know 
what  my  reward  will  be.  I  know  in  taking  Helen  I  did  my 
duty,  and  sinned  only  in  allowing  the  matter  to  he  anything 
but  a  duty." 

The  roses  were  not  coming  hack  into  Marion's  life  without 
the  thorns,  and  with  the  comfort  her  husband's  words  gave 
her  was  mingled  a  good  deal  of  bitterness,  as  she  realized 
that  polygamy  was  to  cloud  her  domestic  happiness,  though 
she  believed  not  to  altogether  destroy  it.  And  she  would 
liope  that  some  time  he  might  see  the  fallacy  of  his  whole 
belief  and  shake  off  the  fetters  that  bound  him  captive  to  a 
false  religion. 

As  the  weeks  passed  on,  Marion  was  tormented  in  spite  of 
herself  vrith  feelings  of  jealousy  and  fear  of  Helen  again  be- 
coming a  rival  in  her  husband's  regard.     He  was  a  lover  of 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  137 

society,  r.nd  would  have  been  pjlad  if  he  could  have  taken 
both  wives  with  him  to  ])laccs  of  amusement  as  other  men 
did.  But  that  was  out  of  the  question.  jNIarion  sometimes 
accompanied  him,  but  she  was  anytlnng  but  happy,  and 
preferred  the  quiet  of  her  own  home  and  the  society  of  lier 
little  ones.  Fear  of  Helen,  however,  always  ensured  a  will- 
ing assent  to  an}^  request  of  her  husband  for  her  company. 
But  Helen  was  seen  with  him  oftenest,  and  she  was  sup- 
posed to  be  his  favorite  wife;  but  she  knew  that  she  was 
not — her  power  over  him  liad  gone.  He  no  longer  lingered 
lover-like,  loth  to  go,  but  hastened  home  to  Marion.  If 
Marion  was  jealous  of  tlie  second  wife,  doubly  so  now  was 
the  second  wife  jealous  of  her.  This  celestial  order  of  mar- 
riage was  poorly  calculated  to  inspire  heavenly  attributes  in 
its  victims. 

Marion  resolved  at  last  to  conquer  her  feelings  aTul  call 
upon  Helen.  She  felt  that  she  could  not  meet  her  first  in  the 
presence  of  her  husband,  and  therefore  said  nothing  about  her 
intentions  to  him.  With  a  beating  heart  she  rang  the  bell  at 
Helen's  door,  but  Helen  was  not  at  home,  and  Marion  could 
not  avoid  a  sigh  of  relief  at  being  spared  an  interview  with 
her.  She  retraced  her  steps,  and  passing  one  of  the  shops  saw 
tlirough  the  window  her  husband  and  his  wife,  Helen,  ap- 
parently making  purchases  together.  Tijis  was  the  first  time 
she  had  ever  seen  them  together  since  their  marriage,  and 
the  first  time  she  had  seen  Helen  at  all,  except  on  that  day 
Ghe  had  given  her  to  their  husband,  and  now  the  sight  of  her 
filled  her  heart  with  pangs  of  jealousy  and  hatred.  Was  she 
deceived  in  her  husband  and  were  the  hours  she  supposed 
he  devoted  to  business  spent  in  attending  Helen  in  her 
shopping  expeditions?  And  Marion  returned  to  her  home, 
almost  ready  to  give  herself  up  to  her  old  wretchedness. 
Her  husband  had  seen  her  as  she  passed  the  windows  and 
inquired  at  night  where  she  had  been. 


138  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's    HOME;    OR, 

TIlis  led  to  an  explanation,  wliicli  quieted  her  fears,  and 
again  lier  mind  vvas  at  rest.  But  her  life  in  those  days  was 
like  a  turbulent,  fitful  stream — now  quiet  and  comparatively 
peaceful,  now  agitated  by  fears  and  apprehensions  and  dark- 
ened by  the  many  heartaches  that  polygamy  in  even  its 
most  unobjectionable  form  must  cause. 

An  interesting  event  now  occurred  in  the  other  branch  of 
Elder  Northfield's  family.  He  was  presented  with  a  daugh- 
ter b3^  Helen.  His  family  was  increasing,  and  his  kingdom 
building  up  now  in  a  manner  approved  by  the  Saints. 
Three  additions  had  been  made  to  it  within  a  year,  and  he 
began  to  be  looked  upon  with  favor  by  the  Cliurch  authori- 
ties. He  was  in  good  standing  now  with  the  Church  and 
considered  a  good  Mormon. 

There  was  now  a  new  attraction  in  Helen's  home  for  him, 
and  she  saw  with  pleasure  that  her  babe  was  bringing  her 
more  of  the  society  of  her  husband.  But  Marion  could  only 
look  upon  the  little  stranger  as  an  intruder,  and  upon  its 
arrival  her  heart  was  filled  with  feelings  of  hatred.  She 
considered  it  a  usurper  of  the  affection  that  belonged  to  her 
and  her  children.  It  seemed  like  a  new  outrage  upon  her 
domestic  life,  and  she  was  very  unhappy  struggling  with  her 
feeling  of  hatred  towards  Helen  and  her  child.  She  knew 
that  she  was  wrong  and  despised  herself  for  her  unjust  senti- 
ments towards  an  innocent  babe.  She  tried  to  put  herself 
in  Helen's  place  and  to  possess  the  spirit  of  kindness  toward 
her  and  hers.  She  resolved  to  do  as  slie  would  be  done  by 
in  Helen's  circumstances  and  conquer  her  jealousy.  She  de- 
termined to  crush  out  her  enmity  and  call  upon  the  other 
wife  and  child,  hoping  that  might  lead  the  wa}"  to  a  better 
feeling  among  tliem. 

She  found  Helen  with  her  bahe  in  her  arms.  She  received 
her  sister-wife  in  a  cool,  suspicious  manner.  Each  tried  to 
speak  calmly  and  regard  the  other  with  ease,  but  both  tnew 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  139 

from  this,  their  first  interview,  that  there  could  never  exist 
any  feeling  of  love,  or  even  friendship,  between  them.  IMarion 
tried  to  regard  the  little  one  with  at  least  the  same  tender- 
ness any  ordinary  babe  would  have  awakened,  for  she  was 
extremely  fond  of  children,  but  it  was  all  she  could  do  to 
pay  it  the  amount  of  attention  she  felt  necessary.  She  took 
it  in  her  arms,  and  its  touch  sent  a  chill  through  her.  She 
ft'lt  her  heart  harden  towards  the  innocent  httle  one,  and  its 
mother  also.  She  almost  dropped  it  into  the  arms  of  the 
latter,  who,  being  on  the  alert,  did  not  fail  to  notice  her  visi- 
tor's repugnance.  Instead  of  conquering  her  animosity, 
Marion  had  increased  it  by  coming  in  contact  with  its 
cbjccts. 

Helen  also  resented  the  dislike  Marion's  face  expressed  for 
her  little  Nell,  and  from  that  time  they  were  further  than 
ever  from  becoming  friendly.  No  further  effort  was  made 
on  either  side  to  that  effect,  each  knowing  that  any  such  at- 
tempt would  but  augment  the  unpleasantness  of  their  mutual 
relations. 

But  Marion  went  home  sad  and  self-reproachful  for  her 
wicked  sensations  as  she  held  in  her  arms  a  babe  just  as 
dear  and  sweet  to  its  mother  as  her  own  little  Marion  was  to 
her,  and  for  aught  she  knew,  just  as  dear  to  her  husband  as 
was  his  other  babe.  In  this  last  thought  lay  much  of  the 
sting,  and  she  became  very  jealous  of  little  Nell  for  baby 
Marion's  sake. 

As  the  little  ones  grew  older,  and  were  able  to  lisp  a  few 
words,  walk  about,  and  frolic  and  play,  Nell  became  her 
father's  favorite,  for  she  Avas  always  pleased  to  see  him, 
always  ready  to  meet  him  with  outstretched  arms  and  a 
laughing  happy  face,  while  little  Marion  shrank  timidly 
from  him,  and  only  the  greatest  coaxing  could  bring  her  to 
his  side.  If  she  was  having  a  merry  romp  with  her  mother, 
suddenly  the  sound  of  her  father's  footsteps  would  change 


140  ELDER   KORTIIFIELD  S   HOME)    OR, 

tlic  briglit  (lark  boauly  of  her  face  to  a  look  of  fear,  as  she 
-watched  him  and  clir.v^  f:ist  to  her  mother's  neck. 

Elder  Northlield  had  often  stood  an  unobserved  spectator, 
-watching  her  beauty  and  grace,  her  sprightliness  and  sweet 
•winninir  vrays,  as  slic  played  v/ith  Forest,  of  whom  she  was 
very  fond,  and  wished  that  he  might,  for  just  one  hour,  have 
tlie  love  and  confidence  of  his  little  daugliter.  He  envied 
little  Forest.  When  he  spoke  to  her,  hoping  to  coax  her  to 
him,  she  instantly  grew  spbcr  and  ran  away  to  her  mother. 
Tins  was  a  constant  source  of  annoyance  to  Elder  North- 
field,  but  more  so  to  the  mother,  for  she  most  ardently  wished 
her  husband  to  love  their  little  daughter,  and  she  tried  to 
create  an  affection  in  Marion  for  him,  fearing  baby  Nell,  with 
her  winsomeness,  would  supplant  Marion  in  his  heart.  Cut 
little  Marion  could  not  be  made  to  love  and  trust  in  her 
father  to  any  great  extent,  and  as  time  passed  on  Nell  be- 
came more  and  more  the  favorite. 

Elder  Northfield  now  spent  more  of  his  time  at  Helen's 
home,  but  she  never  regained  her  old  power  over  him.  It 
was  his  child  that  brought  him  there,  if  he  came  more  than 
duty  compelled  him.  His  first  wife  continued  to  be  first  in 
his  thoughts  and  heart,  although  she  was  often  racked  with 
jealous  fears  to  the  contrary.  Helen's  baby  she  knew  had 
supplanted  her  Marion,  and  Helen  might  yet  supjjlant  her, 
as  she  liad  once  done.  She  could  not  rest,  as  she  had  once, 
secure  in  her  confidence  in  her  husband. 

Thus  matters  went  on  until  the  little  ones  were  about  three 
years  old.  Then  Helen's  health  began  to  fail;  she  grew 
rapidly  worse,  and  lier  husband  felt  that  it  was  his  duty  to 
attend  her  as  much  as  possil)lc.  Marion  compelled  herself 
to  wiibmLdy  forego  her  claim  to  his  society,  and  was  now  much 
alone.  She  tried  to  school  herself  to  believe  that  it  was  her 
husband's  duty  to  remain  by  Helen's  bedside,  as  he  h:id  re- 
mained by  hers,  and  now  into  her  heart  came  sympathy  for 


SACRIFICED    ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  141 

the  sufferer,  and  her  ill  feeling  wasr  chnngecl  to  pity.  She 
went  with  him  and  tried  to  administer  to  the  wants  of  Helen, 
and  show  her  that  she  had  hanished  her  unkind  feelings 
towards  her  and  little  Nell.  Marion  really  felt  regretful  now 
for  her  past  jealousy,  and  wished  to  make  amends.  She  did 
not  shrink  now  from  Nell's  touch,  but  gently  cared  for  her 
as  she  did  for  her  own  darling. 

Helen's  eyes,  as  she  lay  on  her  pillow,  followed  Marion 
about,  as  though  she  wondered  at  her  kindness,  but  could 
not  understand  that  she  had  forgiven  her  for  becoming  her 
husband's  wife. 

At  last  one  day  Elder  Northfield  entered  Helen's  room, 
and  taking  her  hand  said : 

"  My  poor  Helen,  can  you  bear  to  be  told  what  your  phy- 
sician says?  " 

"  What  does  he  say  ?  Tell  me,  is  there  no  hope  for  me  ? 
Must  I  die?" 

"  We  fear  you  must,  and  I  did  not  think  it  right  not  to 
tell  you.  Dear  Helen,  I  am  sorry,  but  I  can  give  you  no 
hope." 

"Are  you  sorry  ?  I  did  not  think  you  would  care.  You 
have  not  loved  mc  much  since  the  first  few  months  I  knew 
you." 

"  Forgive  me,  if  I  have  not  loved  you  as  I  ought.  I  have 
tried  to  do  right,  but  it  was  hard  sometimes  to  know  what 
was  my  duty.  I  have  not  meant  to  wrong  any  one." 
''  O  my  poor  little  Nell !  "  moaned  Helen. 
"Have  you  any  wish  or  request  to  make  about  Nell's 
future?  Marion,  I  think,  is  getting  very  fond  of  her,  and 
you  may  rest  assured  she  will  be  well  cared  for." 

"  Not  by  her  !  I  don't  want  her  to  have  my  child.  She 
does  not  love  her.  She  hated  her  the  first  time  she  saw  her ; 
I  saw  it  in  her  eye.  I  saw  her  shiver,  almost,  as  she  put  her 
out  of  her  arms.  Why  she  came  then,  I  do  not  know.  Why 
she  comes  now,  and  seems  kind  to  me,  I  do  not  know. 


142  I^LDER    NORTHFIELd's    HOME  ;    OR, 

"She  comes  now,  Helen,  because  she  pities  3'ou,  and 
wishes  to  show  her  kind  feeling  towards  you." 

"  But  she  has  always  hated  me,  and  my  baby,  too ;  and  do 
you  think  I  would  now  put  my  little  one  in  her  care?  My 
sister  will  take  her,  and  you  must  promise  me  to  send  her  to 
mj  sister." 

'•'Cut,  Helen,  you  know  how  I  love  her,  and  how  hard  it 
will  be  for  me  to  part  with  her." 

"  Yes,  I  know  you  love  her,  and  perhaps  I  should  have 
had  more  pity  for  you  if  you  had  had  more  for  me. 
But  I  know  that  your  love  for  her  is  all  that  has  brought 
you  here.  Had  it  not  been  for  her,  I  should  have  been 
utterly  neglected.  You  were  all  devotion  to  me  till  we  were 
married,  and  led  me  to  expect  you  would  continue  to  be,  but 
how  soon  you  forsook  me !  You  gave  one  wife  years  of  de- 
votion, but  could  only  give  the  other  a  few  short  months.  It 
was  only  fair  tliat  I  should  have  been  first  in  your  regard 
now,  but  you  went  back  to  her  again,  and  she  even  grudged 
mo  what  slight  attentions  you  did  pay  me.  She  grudged  mo 
even  my  baby,  my  only  treasure  and  jov,  and  sire  shall  not 
have  her  now.  At  least  you  will  not  refuse  this  request,  now 
that  I  am  going  to  die.  I  suppose  she  will  be  glad  when  I 
am  dead,  and  no  one  will  mourn  for  me  but  poor  little  Xell 
and  my  sister." 

"Helen,  I  shall  mourn  for  ycu ;  and  if  you  only  might 
live,  I  think  we  should  all  be  more  happy  in  our  relations 
to  each  other  than  we  have  been.  Try  to  feel  forgiving 
towards  Marion  and  me.  ]\Iarion  feels  perfectly  friendly  now 
towards  you." 

"I  never  can  feel  forgiving  towards  her,  even  though  I  am 
dying.  She  has  wanted  all  and  was  willing  I  sliould  have 
nothing.  She  has  been  very  selfish,  I  think,  and  cannot 
atone  for  it  now  I  am  dying.  But  you  will  grant  my 
request  ?  " 


SACRIFICED    OiN    THE    MORMON    ALTAR. 


143 


"Yes,  Helen,  it  shall  be  as  you  wisli.  God  knows  I  am 
Boriy  enon;^li  I  liavc  not  made  you  any  happier.  I  have 
made  two  women  miserable,  but  I  tried  to  do  my  duty. 
Our  religion  leads  to  these  results  sometimes,  I  think,  and 
we  musr  try  to  think  it  is  all  right,  for  it  cannot  always  be 
helped,  and  although  our  wives  have  a  cross  to  bear  in  this 
life,  in  the  Celestial  Kingdom  they  will  be  happy.  There  is 
hope  for  you,  Helen.  You  will  have  a  place  there  to  reward 
you  for  ail  you  have  had  to  bear  here,  and  there  we  know 
all  these  human  weaknesses  will  not  trouble  us,  and  we  will 
meet  there  and  be  happy." 

"  I  do  not  think  much  about  these  things.  I  suppose  it  is 
so,  but  nothing  of  that  kind  seems  real  to  me.  I  think  if 
she  were  there  with  her  children,  I  should  not  be  any  happier 
than  I  am  here.  I  do  not  want  to  die ;  I  want  to  live  for 
my  baby's  sake.  O,  I  can't  die!"  and  Helen  went  into  a 
perfect  paroxysm  of  grief. 

Marion,  although  the  greatest  sufferer,  was  not  the  only 
one  in  this  case  of  polygamy,  Helen's  sorrows,  or  cross,  cs 
the  Mormons  spoke  of  it,  had  been  hard  to  bear.  Her  short 
experience  of  the  system  had  proved  a  sad  one,  and  was 
bringing  bitterness  into  her  dying  hours.  She  felt  that  she 
had  been  robbed  of  her  share  of  happiness,  and  in  the  be- 
yond there  was  nothing  brighter  to  hope  for.  Nothing  more 
in  this  life  for  her — her  only  pleasure  she  must  leave.  She 
lay  upon  her  dying  bed  while  the  one  who  smoothed  her 
pillow  and  watched  over  her,  though  bearing  the  nearest  and 
what  should  be  the  dearest  relationship  to  her,  performed 
these  offices  from  a  sense  of  duty,  rather  than  from  the 
promptings  of  love.  Polygamy  had  hung  a  pall  over  this 
young  life,  and  robbed  her  death  of  all  rays  of  light  and 
hope.  The  husband,  too,  had  suffered.  Perplexed  beyond 
measure  had  he  been  to  decide  how  to  deal  justly  and  fairly 
with  both  wives — how  to  avoid  giving  pain  to  either,  or  ne- 


144  ELDER   NORTIIFIEI,d's   HOME;   OR, 

glectin:?  ono  for  tiio  otlier.  If  his  vrivcs  could  have  lived 
tojxether,  gone  out  together,  accompanied  him  together,  his 
t.isk  would  have  hcen  easier;  hut  he  never  would  try  to 
bring  tiiat  affliction  on  Marion,  and  it  would  have  been 
equally  impossible  to  persuade  Helen  to  that  mode  of  life. 
Elder  Northfield  was  not  like  most  Mormon  men,  who  would 
have  "forced  then:-  into  it,"  and  who  frequently  advised  him 
to  that  course.  He  knew  their  cross  must  be  heavy  enough 
at  best,  and  humanely  endeavored  to  make  it  as  light  as  was 
in  his  power.  There  was  constantly  something  too  notice- 
able in  the  appearance  of  each  wife  that  seemed  like  a  re- 
proach to  him.  He  was  able  to  make  neither  happ}',  and 
this  consciousness  weighed  like  a  millstone  about  his  neck. 
His  domestic  happiness  had  gone  in  a  great  measure.  Ho 
did  not  possess  the  affection  of  one  of  his  little  daughters, 
and  now  his  wife  was  dying  with  reproaches  for  him  on  her 
lips.  He  had  done  his  duty,  lived  up  to  the  light  he  had 
received,  obeyed  divine  commands,  and  this  v.*as  all  the  re- 
ward he  had  thus  flir  received. 

Helen  failed  rapidly  now,  and  at  last  it  was  with  real  sor- 
row that  her  husband  closed  her  eyes  in  death.  Constant 
attendance  upon  her  and  a  demand  upon  his  sympathies 
had  awakened  something  of  his  former  tenderness  for  her, 
and  could  she  but  have  realized  it,  the  pathway  to  her  gravo 
might  have  been  smoothed  a  little,  but  she  could  only  be- 
lieve that  his  kindness  and  sympathy  were  forced. 

Marion  knew  how  matters  stood,  but  she  could  not  and 
would  not  be  jealous  of  a  dying  woman,  and  encouraged  her 
husband  to  make  ever}^  efibrt  for  the  alleviation  of  her  jDain, 
both  bodily  and  mental.  And  now  came  a  trial  to  Marion. 
She  had  never  been  seen  with  Helen  while  living — had  never 
been  with  her  except  on  two  or  three  occasions  till  her  sick- 
ness ;  but  now  that  Helen  was  dead,  she  must  publicly  sit 
with  her  husband  as  a  mourner  for  her.     A  mourner  for  her 


SACniFICED   ON   THE   JIOn:,ION   ALTAR.  145 

husband's  other  wife!  She  was  expected  to  mourn  becauso 
the  cause  of  her  sufferhig  almost  unto  death  was  removed — 
to  mourn  because  the  one  who  had  robbed  her  of  her  hue- 
band's  afl'ection  was  be^'ond  the  power  to  v/ound  nor  further. 
Her  husband,  she  knew,  really  grieved  for  Helen  in  a  meas- 
ure; but  as  she  thought  of  the  time  when  his  very  soul 
seemed  rent  by  the  loss  of  their  little  Elsie,  she  could  not 
but  feel  to  thank  God  that  he  did  not  mourn  for  Helen  as  ho 
had  for  their  babe.  Little  Marion  and  her  sister  Nell  had 
never  met  before,  but  now,  with  one  clinging  tearfully  to  iicr 
father's  hand,  and  the  other  wonderingiy  walking  by  her 
mother's  side,  they  together  went  through  with  the  scenes 
which  in  their  future  lives,  as  they  looked  back  to  child- 
hood's days,  were  the  first  they  could  remember.  The  father 
lifted  Nell  to  look  at  her  mother  lying  so  cold  and  still. 
"^lamma,  mamma!  Do  vv'ake  up!  Do  take  Nelli"  she 
cried,  but  no  human  pov/er  could  wake  Helen  now.  Little 
IMarion,  on  seeing  her  father  lift  Nell,  turned  to  her  mother 
and  said:  "Mamma,  lift  me,  too,  please.  Mayon  wants  to 
see."  But  the  mother  did  not  grant  her  little  one's  request ; 
slie  could  not  bear  to  impress  upon  the  child's  mind  a  sight 
of  the  cold  dead  face  of  lier  father's  other  wife.  Her  early 
impressions  she  would  not  cloud  with  the  horrors  of  polyg- 
amy, and  she  felt  thankful  that  her  little  son  was  prevented 
from  being  there  by  a  slight  sickness.  As  she  stood  looking 
for  the  last  time  at  Helen,  all  feelings  of  resentment  had  died 
in  her  heart.  Slie  could  not  hate  the  dead  ;  she  could  only 
pity  and  forgive.  She  mourned  that  she  had  cherished  such 
feelings  towards  one  who,  though  the  occasion  of  her  misery, 
was  yet  not  to  blame  that  she  had  been  the  one  selected  to 
supplant  her  in  her  husband's  affections.  It  v\'as  not  her 
l-iult  that  hatred  had  existed  between  them.  Poor  Helen  1 
And  now  Clarion  asked  God's  forgiveness  for  the  sin  of 
hating  her  husband's  wife.  But  other  feelings  of  a  confiiet- 
10 


146  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;    OR, 

ing  nature  entered  her  heart  now.  As  she  saw  how  tenderly 
and  affectionately  her  husband  led  or  carried  little  Nell ; 
how  sweetly  trustful  she  was  in  him,  as  her  arms  were  wound 
about  his  neck  and  her  cheek  lay  against  his,  how  slie 
mourned  for  the  estrangement  that  forbid  any  such  famil- 
iarity between  him  and  her  little  one  !  She  felt  again  the 
old  jealousy  for  Helen's  baby,  and  rejoiced  that  Nell  was  not 
to  become  one  of  her  family.  And  as  she  passed  on  and 
realized  that  she  and  her  husband  had  beheld  his  second 
wife  for  the  last  time  on  earth,  in  spite  of  herself  a  sense  of 
relief  came  over  her.  A  load  seemed  lifted  from  her  heart. 
She  felt  free.  Her  husband  was  again  hers,  and  hers 
alone.  Helen  could  never  come  between  them  now,  and 
Marion  was  surprised  and  shocked  as  she  found  that  her 
heart  was  being  lifted  up  towards  the  lightness  of  other  days. 
Was  it  mockery  for  her  to  be  there,  and  was  it  a  sin  for  her 
to  rejoice  in  her  freedom?  Marion  felt  that  it  was,  and  con- 
scientiously and  self-reproachfully  tried  to  crush  such  un- 
worthy sentiments.  But  she  could  not.  She  was  human. 
God  never  gave  pure  womanly  instincts  to  his  creatures — 
filled  their  very  souls  with  a  sense  of  right  and  wrong,  and 
then  required  them  to  crush  these  God-given  instincts.  And 
Marion's  struggle  to  that  effect  was  in  vain,  and  only  filled 
her  heart  with  a  tumult  of  conflicting  emotions,  till  she  was 
almost  unconscious  of  what  was  going  on  about  her. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    MORMON   ALTAR.  147 


CHAPTER   IX. 

ITTLE  NELL  was  sent  to  her  mother's  sister,  in  adis- 
^  tant  part  of  the  Territory,  and  Elder  Nortlifield's  second 
home  was  broken  up.  Now  he  had  one  home,  one  wife,  one 
family  to  care  for,  and  as  time  passed- on  he  realized  much 
more  comfort  than  he  had  done  in  the  divided  state  of  mat- 
rimon3\  He  missed  his  favorite  daughter,  but  little  Marion, 
or  Mayon,  as  they  now  called  her  since  she  had  given  her- 
self that  name,  was  becoming  less  sh}^  of  her  father,  and  by 
degrees  lost  her  fear  of  him.  But  she  did  not  love  him  as 
she  did  her  mother  and  brother,  and  he  knew  it;  but  still 
he  became  more  and  more  fond  of  her  as  she  grew  older  and 
more  beautiful  every  j^ear.  Her  large  dark  eyes  were  full 
of  light  and  beauty  at  times,  and  again,  if  anything  saddened 
her,  they  were  filled  wuth  the  most  mournful  and  often  re- 
proachful expression.  Her  complexion  was  like  a  ripe  peach, 
and  glowed  with  the  beauty  of  health,  and  her  hair  hung 
down  her  shoulders  in  a  shower  of  dark  curls,  and  clustered 
about  her  forehead  in  little  rings  which  all  the  combing  and 
wetting  in  the  world  could  not  straighten.  But  her  beauty 
was  not  all  external.  She  was  full  of  the  graces  of  a  beauti- 
ful childhood,  winning  the  love  of  whoever  knew  her,  lirst 
by  her  personal  attractions,  then  by  the  loveliness  of  her 
disposition.  Mayon  had  one  peculiar  characteristic,  that  of 
changing  suddenly  from  the  gayest  of  moods,  the  liveliest 
frolic,  to  a  strange  sadness  unaccountable  to  her  parents. 
At  such  times  she  would  always  seek  her  mother,  lay  her 
head  in  her  lap,  and  sometimes  would   even  sob  and  cry 


148  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's    HOME;   OR, 

without  being  aljle  to  give  any  reason  for  it.  Then  as  sud- 
denly her  mood  would  change  again,  and  instantly  her  tears 
would  be  dashed  away,  and,  with  face  radiant  as  though  re- 
freshed by  a  summer  shower,  she  would  dart  awa}^  to  hg: 
play.  She  had  the  sweetest  of  childish  voices,  and  her 
mother  delighted  in  training  it  to  sing  the  songs  she  learned 
in  her  younger  days. 

Forest  was  now  a  manly  little  fellow,  long  ago  having 
been  relieved  of  his  golden  ringlets,  which  were  lovingly  and 
tearfully  laid  aside  as  a  tribute  to  his  baby  days.  The 
dresses  and  little  half-worn  shoes  had  been  put  away  for 
''  clothes  like  papa's  "  and  boots.  He  was  very  fond  of  his 
mother  and  Mayon,  but  his  father  was  chief  among  ten 
thousand  to  him,  and  his  greatest  pleasure  was  to  be  with 
him — his  greatest  ambition  to  be  like  him.  His  father  had 
more  influence  over  him  than  his  mother  or  sister,  and  for 
his  sake  more  than  for  Mayon's,  Mrs.  Northfield  longed  and 
prayed  that  he  might  see  his  error  and  free  himself  from  his 
fanatical  belief  in  Mormonism.  She  had  faith  that  she  could 
mould  Mayon's  mind  as  she  wished,  and,  like  another 
mother,  so  this  one  determined  that  her  little  girl  should 
never  be  a  Mormon's  wife.  Her  future  life  was  decided  upon 
by  lier  mother.  If  her  own  life  must  be  spent  in  Mormon- 
ism, then  in  the  future  there  was  in  store  for  her  a  separa- 
tion from  this  dearest  treasure,  for  cost  what  it  miglit  to  her, 
Mayon  must  never  suffer  as  she  had  suffered.  She  must  go 
into  the  Gentile  world  wlicn  her  childhood  days  were  over, 
and  somewhere  tliere  would  be  a  place  for  her  and  a  liappy 
home  which  no  counsel  cr  command  of  man  could  blight. 

She  had  tried  unsuccessfully  to  save  Francis  and  Edith 
Parker  from  Mormonism  ;  she  would  succeed  in  her  plan 
with  her  own  child.  With  this  end,  this  separation  in  view, 
did  this  mother  bravely  rear  her  little  one.  She  taught  her 
all  she  could  (and  Mayon  proved  an  apt  scholar),  cultivated 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  149 

her  every  gift,  and  especially  her  talent  for  music,  and  tried 
hv  every  means  in  her  power  to  render  her  treasure  more 
valuable,  her  gem  more  bright,  only  to  part  with  it  at  last. 
This  project  of  Marion's  was  kept  a  secret  from  every  human 
being.  She  sometimes  felt  that  she  was  acting  as  a  traitor 
to  her  husband  in  secretly  planning  the  escape  of  their 
daughter  from  ^lormonism,  but  she  was  sure  a  knowledge 
of  her  scheme  by  him  would  be  fatal  to  its  fulfilment.  His 
sense  of  duty  in  the  matter  would  outweigh  every  other  con- 
sideration, and  Mayon  would  be  forced  to  remain  in  Mor- 
nionism,  and  in  all  probability  would  suffer  the  horrors  of 
Dolygamy.  Anything  was  better  than  that;  even  death 
•would  she  have  preferred  for  her  little  one.  And  Mayon 
•was  growing  up,  all  unconscious  of  the  fate  her  mother  was 
preparing  for  her,  for  she  tried  by  every  means  in  her  power 
to  render  her  strong  in  body  and  mind  and  self-reliant,  and 
to  give  her  all  the  knowledge  of  the  Gentile  world  that  it 
was  in  her  power  to  do,  that  when  the  dreaded  time  came, 
•when  she  must  send  her  forth  from  her  protecting  arm,  she 
might  be  competent  if  need  be  to  make  her  own  way  in 
the  world.  She  would  have  been  glad  to  have  sought  the 
society  of  what  few  Gentiles  there  were  in  the  city,  but  that 
would  have  been  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  authorities, 
and  after  her  attempt  at  making  apostates  of  the  little  Par- 
kers, would  have  excited  their  suspicions  of  her  intentions 
with  regard  to  her  own  children.  She  now  had  a  little 
school  in  her  own  family  and  taught  Forest  and  Mayon 
much  more  than  Mormon  children  usually  learned  of  books. 
In  one  branch,  however,  they  were  sadly  deficient — that  was 
of  the  doctrines  and  teachings  of  their  religion.  She  en- 
tirely neglected  this  branch  of  instruction,  the  one  con- 
sidered the  most  important ;  but  Elder  Northfield  tried  to  be 
faithful  in  this  matter,  and  imparted  much  moral  and  doc- 
trinal instruction  to   his   young  son.     Forest  accepted   as 


150  ET.DER    NORTIIFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

eagerly  all  his  father  said,  as  his  father  had  accepted  the 
teachings  of  Mormonisii^  in  his  younger  days,  and  he  was 
as  devoted  a  little  Mormon  as  his  father  might  wisli,  and 
inherited  his  missionary  zeal  to  such  an  extent  as  to  exer- 
cise it  upon  his  sister  upon  all  possible  occasions.  AVhen 
quite  small  he  would  mount  a  chair  and  with  May  on  for 
his  audience,  would  proceed  to  proclaim  to  her  the  myste- 
ries of  the  revelations  and  doctrines  of  the  Latter-Day 
Saints.  Plis  gestures  amused  her,  his  earnestness  inspired 
her  with  awe,  and  her  admiration  for  liim  kept  her  such  an 
attentive  audience  that  Forest  thought  he  had  made  a  deep 
impression  upon  her.  He  longed  for  the  time  to  come  when 
he  should  be  a  man  and  stand  in  the  pulpit  and  preach  to 
an  attentive  throng  as  Brigham  Young  now  did.  He  de- 
lighted in  reciting  poems  or  speeches  to  as  great  an  audi- 
ence as  he  could  command,  or  even  to  an  imaginary  audi- 
ence. Mayon,  with  her  dolls,  her  kitten,  and  her  bird, 
always  formed  a  part  of  these  audiences,  and  sometimes  the 
w^hole.  There  was  no  doubt  that  Forest  had  a  talent  for 
public  speaking,  and  liis  father  look  great  pride  in  his  son's 
proclivities,  but  to  his  motlier  they  were  a  source  of  trouble. 
She  believed  he  was  destined  to  exercise  a  great  influence 
over  others,  and  the  indications  now  were  that  he  would 
wie'd  that  influence  to  perpetuate  ]Mormonism  in  all  its 
frauds.  As  he  grew  older  he  began  to  take  Mayon  aside 
and  teach  her  the  doctrines  he  had  learned  from  his  father's 
lips,  until  her  mind  would  be  full  of  wonder  at  the  remarka- 
ble visions  and  revelations  God  had  sent  to  men,  and  her 
large  eyes  would  dilate  with  fear,  as  Forest  portrayed  the 
great  battle  which  was  coming  on  the  earth  between  the 
Saints  of  the  Most  High  and  the  wicked  Gentiles.  Forest 
enjoyed  the  impression  he  made  upon  his  sister's  mind  ex- 
ceedingly, but  he  was  not  aware  how  deep  was  the  effect  of 
his  words.     Much  of  the  time  she  seemed  to  have  a  half- 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    MORMON   ALTAR.  151 

frightened  appearance,  and  developed  a  timidity  altogether 
new  to  her.  Her  mother  watched  this  new  trait  with  anxiety 
and  wonder.     At  last,  however,  she  discovered  the  cause. 

One  morning  Mayon  awoke  screaming  with  terror.  As 
soon  as  she  could  be  calmed  enough  to  say  anything  she 
exclaimed  :  "  0,  mamma !  I've  had  a  vision  !  " 

"A  vision,  my  child !  " 

"  Yes,  mamma,  a  vision.  I  saw  God  coming  down  from 
heaven  with  a  great  sword  in  his  hand,  and  he  went  into 
the  Gentile  world,  and  all  the  little  Gentile  children  were 
running  away  from  him  and  begging  him  not  to  kill  them. 
Then  I  ran  after  him  to  plead  for  the  poor  little  children, 
and  he  raised  his  sword  to  strike  me,  and  then  I  screamed 
and  you  came  then,  mamma.  0,  will  God  destroy  all  the 
little  Gentile  children,  mamma  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,  Mayon.  Why  do  you  think  so,  and  why 
do  you  call  your  bad  dream  a  vision  ?  " 

"0,  it  is  a  vision,  mamma.  Forest  told  me  all  about 
visions,  and  he  says  they  are  always  true." 

"  Did  Forest  tell  you  this,  my  little  girl?  " 

"Yes,  mamma,  and  a  great  deal  more  that  makes  me 
afraid." 

*'  Tell  me  what  it  is." 

"  He  says  if  we  don't  obey  the  elders  God  will  destroy  us, 
and  that  by-and-by  all  the  Mormons  will  go  against  all  the 
Gentiles,  and  they  will  try  to  kill  each  other ;  but  the  Mor- 
mons will  not  be  killed — the  Gentiles  will,  though,  and  then 
there  won't  be  an}^  Gentiles,  and  there  won't  be  any  aunt 
Elsie,  will  there,  mamma,  for  you  to  tell  me  about?  " 

"  My  poor  frightened  Mayon,  Forest  has  told  you  wrong. 
There  will  be  no  such  attempt  to  kill  each  other  as  he  has 
told  you,  and  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  vision  in  these 
days." 

"  But,  mamma,  papa  told  Forest  so  himself;  but  I  did  not 


152  ELDER   XORTIIFIELD's   HOME  ;   OR, 

think  I  should  liave  a  vision  ;  I  was  afraid  of  it  though.  0, 
mamma,  I  think  visions  is  dreadful !  " 

What  could  the  mother  say  now  to  her  child?  These 
frightful  assertions  had  their  origin  from  her  father's  lips, 
although  they  had  become  somewhat  distorted  in  coming  to 
Mayon.  How  could  that  mother  tell  her  child  that  her 
father's  teachings  Avere  false,  and  thus  destroy  the  little 
faith  and  trust  she  had  worked  so  hard  to  establish  in  her 
little  one?  How  could  she  bear  that  the  Mormon  doctrines 
and  hideous  beliefs  should  be  instilled  into  Mayon's  mind 
to  terrify  her  young  heart?  It  was  hard  enough  to  see  that 
her  loved  son  was  growing  up  a  willing  victim  to  the  delu- 
sions of  his  father's  fliith — that  he  would  no  doubt  be  the 
cause  of  misery  to  some  woman  or  women — without  sacri- 
ficing her  little  girl  too. 

"  Mayon,"  she  said,  "  Forest  did  not  quite  understand 
papa.  He  did  not  mean  exactly  as  Forest  told  you;  and 
what  you  saw  w^as  a  bad,  naughty  dream,  and  no  vision  at 
all." 

"And  won't  God  kill  the  little  Gentile  children  ?  " 

"No,  my  dear;  God  loves  little  children,  no  matter 
whether  they  are  Mormon  or  Gentile,  and  He  will  take 
them  in  his  arms  and  bless  them." 

"O,  mamma,  don't  let  Him  take  me  in  His  arms!  I  am 
afraid  of  Him." 

"  No,  darling,  mamma  will  keep  you  from  all  harm." 

"  But  didn't  papa  say  that  God  would  destroy  all  the  little 
Gentile  children?     Forest  said  he  did." 

What  could  ]\Iarion  say  now?  Her  husband  had  told  her 
son  what  she  w^as  now  denying  to  their  daughter.  The 
father  was  making  assertions  which  the  mother  contradicted. 
How  w\as  family  government,  parental  confidence,  and  do- 
mestic harmony  to  prevail,  with  matters  in  such  a  state  ? 
Marion  saw  that  the  situation  was  indeed  deplorable.    She 


SACPvIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  153 

did  not  answer  Ma^^on's  question;  and  Mayon,  after  waiting 
in  vain  for  an  answer,  said : 

"  I'll  ask  papa,  and  lie  will  tell  me." 

I.Irs.  North  field  hoped,  however,  that  she  would  forget 
about  it  by  the  time  her  father  returned,  for  he  had  gone  on 
a  visit  to  his  little  daughter  Nell.  But  Mayon  did  not  for- 
get, and  almost  the  first  thing  she  said  to  him  was : 

"  Papa,  did  you  tell  Forest  that  God  would  destroy  all  the 
little  Gentile  children?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear;  why  do  you  ask?  " 

"Mamma  said  Forest  didn't  understand  you,  and  that 
God  loved  all  little  children,  and  would  not  kill  any  of  them. 
0,  papa!  don't  let  God  kill  those  poor  little  children." 

And  Mayon's  quivering  lips  and  pent-up  tears  could  be 
controlled  no  longer.  She  sobbed  and  cried,  and  her  father 
took  her  in  his  arms  and  endeavored  to  soothe  her. 

"  My  little  girl,"  said  he,  "  God  knows  what  is  best,  and 
my  ]\Iayon  will  be  safe  in  his  fold,  and  the  little  Gentile  chil- 
dren will  be  saved,  too,  if  they  come  into  His  Church." 

"But,  papa,  who  told  you  so?  and  why  did  mamma  say 
it  wasn't  so?" 

"  The  men  God  sent  told  me  so,  and  mamma  denied  it  be- 
cause she  doesn't  believe  it." 

"  0  !  well  then,  I  guess,  papa,  I  don't  b'leeve,  too.  I  think 
those  men  that  said  so  are  naughty  men,  'cause  mamma 
caid  God  loves  little  children ;  and  papa,  do  you  love  little 
children  ?" 

"Yes,  Mayon,  I  do." 

"And  you  wouldn't  want  to  kill  the  little  children,  would 
you  ?  " 

"No,  Mayon." 

"Then  God  wouldn't,  would  He?  I  guess,  papa,  those 
men  told  you  wrong,  'cause  mamma  knows,  and  she  said  it 
wasn't  a  vision — only  a  bad,  naughty  dream.'' 


154  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's    HOME;    OR, 

"Why,  Mayon,  Avliat  did  you  see  in  your  dream?" 
,Mayon  then  told  her  dream,  and  lier  father  wisely  led  the 
conyersation  to  other  matters,  and  soon  she  slipped  away 
from  him,  saying: 

"Please,  papa,  don't  tell  us  or  any  little  children  what 
those  naughty  men  said,  it  makes  me  so  afraid." 

And  well  she  might  be  afraid  of  a  belief,  called  a  religion, 
which  had  brought,  was  bringing,  and  would  in  the  future 
bring  untold  misery  to  her  sex. 

Mrs.  Northfield  now  felt  that  something  must  be  done  to 
prevent  the  recurrence  of  such  scenes.  She  talked  with  her 
husband  on  the  subject.  Elder  Northfield  wished  to  bring 
up  his  children  in  his  own  religion,  and  his  wife  dared  not 
allow  him  to  suspect  her  determination  with  regard  to 
Mayon 's  future.  But  they  agreed  that  the  teachings  of  one 
must  not  contradict  the  statements  of  the  other.  If  hus- 
band and  wife  could  not  agree  in  this  point,  each  must  make 
some  concession  in  fayor  of  the  other. 

So  they  at  last  agreed  that  to  Marion  should  be  giyen  the 
religious  training  of  their  daughter,  while  the  son  should  be 
instructed  by  his  father.  Thus  Marion  was  bound,  to  save 
ISIayon  from  false  teachings,  to  allow  her  son  to  grow  up  de- 
ceiving and  being  deceived ;  to  allow^  him  to  be  blinded  by 
]\[ormon  absurdities  and  make  no  effort  to  remove  the  scales 
from  his  eyes.  How  she  wished  that  he  was  again  the  little 
innocent  child  that  fled  with  her  on  that  terriljle  night  from 
their  home,  that  she  might  have  kept  him  ignorant  as  he 
then  was  of  all  the  superstitions  and  depravity  of  Mormon- 
ism,  and  that  she  might  have  always  moulded  his  mind  as 
she  could  then.  She  Avas  very  sad  as  she  realized  the  situa- 
tion ;  but  even  if  she  could  have  been  allowed  to  teach  her 
son,  in  all  probability  .her  influence  would  have  been  una- 
vailing against  his  father's. 

He  was  a  beautiful  boy,  full  of  noble  qualities,  and  he  did 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  155 

not  realize  that  his  preaching  and  teaching  were  having  such 
a  painful  effect  on  liis  sister,  or  he  would  have  spared  her 
sensitive  feelings.  Now,  however,  he  was  forl)idden  to  speak 
to  Mayon  on  the  suhject  of  JMormon  religion,  and  it  Avas 
never  broached  in  her  presence  by  any  member  of  the  fam- 
ily. If  introduced  by  herself,  no  encouragement  was  given 
her  to  ask  questions,  and  after  a  time  her  interest  died  away, 
although  she  did  not  entirely  forget  her  "  vision." 

Mrs.  Northfield  had  come  to  realize  that  there  could  be 
no  real  happiness  for  her  in  the  Mormon  world.  As  long  as 
her  husband  remained  a  believer  in  Mormonism,  so  long 
would  her  life  be  clouded  by  its  effects.  There  was  reason 
to  believe  he  would  be  a  Mormon  till  he  died,  and  therefore 
she  could  see  no  great  brightness  in  the  world  for  her.  But 
she  had  much  to  comfort  and  give  her  peace  now  in  her  do- 
mestic relations.  Her  husband  was  again  devoted  to  her, 
and  lier  children  were  a  source  of  pride  and  pleasure.  She 
might  escape  any  great  sorrow,  her  heart  might  never  again 
be  wrung  by  its  former  anguish,  but  yet  there  was  always 
the  fear  in  her  soul  that  polygamy  would  again  send  its 
crushing  influence  to  plunge  her  into  her  former  darkness. 
The  effects  of  her  past  misery  were  lasting,  and  never,  under 
any  circumstances,  could  she  have  gained  her  old  lightness 
of  heart.  The  wound  might  heal,  but  the  scar  disappear, 
never. 

Another  source  of  sorrow,  unknown,  unsuspected  by  any 
one,  was  the  separation  that  she  had  decreed,  in  her  own 
mind,  should  take  place  between  herself  and  daughter.  As 
long  as  she  could  keep  her  with  her,  she  would,  but  when 
the  time  came,  as  it  would,  alas,  too  soon,  that  others  should 
seek  to  link  Mayon's  destiny  irrevocably  with  Mormonism, 
then  she  must  send  her  darling  forth  alone,  and  her  home 
would  be  desolate. 


156  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;   OR, 

Marion  had  not  seen  little  Nell  since  she  was  sent  to  her 
mother's  sister,  at  the  age  of  three  years.  She  knew  nothing 
of  her  beyond  what  her  husband  told  her  of  his  occasional 
visits,  but  after  the  lapse  of  several  years  she  was  to  renew 
her  acquaintance  with  the  child  in  a  way  she  had  not  ex- 
pected. Helen's  sister  died  suddenly,  and  her  friends  sent 
word  to  Elder  Northfield  to  that  effect;  also,  that  Kell  was 
unprovided  for,  and  he  was  requested  to  immediately  assume 
the  responsibility  of  her  care  or  instruct  them  how  to  proceed 
with  reference  to  her. 

The  way  seemed  now  to  open  to  bring  his  little  daughter 
home,  and  the  fatlicr  was  glad  that  it  was  so,  for  his  affection 
for  Nell  was  still  strong;  but  how^  would  his  wife  receive 
her?  Would  she  be  willing  to  take  Helen's  child  into  her 
home?     He  stated  the  facts  to  Marion  ;  nobly  she  answered, 

"Bring  the  motherless  child  home  with  you,  and  I  will 
try  to  be  a  good  mother  to  her." 

She  feared  she  never  could  love  Nell  very  much,  but  she 
could  at  least  be  kind  and  fulfil  a  mother's  duty  towards 
her. 

So  Nell  came  to  them,  and  Mayon  had  a  playfellow  and 
her  mother  a  new  care.  Mayon  received  Nell  warmly,  for 
she  had  few  playmates  of  her  own  age,  as  her  mother  wished 
to  keep  her  secluded  as  much  as  was  possible  from  tlieir 
Mormon  surroundings.  Nell  proved  to  be  a  bright,  win- 
some child,  when  all  her  moods  and  whims  were  indulged, 
but  her  temper  was  almost  ungovernable  if  slie  was  thwarted 
or  crossed  in  her  desires.  She  was  very  selfish,  and  of  an 
envious,  jealous  disposition.  To  offset  these  defects,  how- 
ever, she  was  extremely  affectionate  and  kind  at  intervals, 
and  became  much  attached  to  Mayon.  But  in  spite  of  Nell's 
fondness  for  her,  Mayon  suffered  much  from  her  unevenness 
of  disposition,  and  her  little  heart  was  often  grieved  by 
Nell's  unkindness.    The  latter  would  sometimes  seek  to 


SACKIFICED   ON    THE    MORMON   ALTAR.  157 

make  up  for  her  wrong  to  her  half-sister  b}'  a  spasm  of  gen- 
erosity, which  would  make  all  riaht  again. 

Nell  was  a  pretty  child,  with  light-brown  hair  and  keen 
gray  eyes.  Her  face  had  a  bright,  piquant  look,  v.'hich  at- 
tracted people,  and  although  the  beauty  and  regularity  of 
Mayon's  features  were  missing  in  her,  yet  slie  had  a  certain 
beauty  of  her  own.  She  had  been  brought  up  so  far  in  true 
IMormon  ignorance,  and  could  scarcely  read  at  all,  while 
]\Iayon  could  read  well,  and  had  advanced  beyond  most 
children  of  her  age,  even  in  Gentile  society,  in  her  knowl- 
edge of  arithmetic  and  geography.  In  geography  she  was 
esi)ecially  interested  and  well  informed,  as  her  mother  pointed 
out  to  her  on  the  maps  her  native  country,  the  course  she 
took  in  sailing  from  it.  New  York,  her  aunt  Elsie's  home, 
and  the  entire  Gentile  world,  and  told  her  of  its  people,  its 
manners  and  customs. 

Mayon  was  also  beginning  to"  be  an  apt  music  scholar. 
Her  father  had  procured  her  an  organ — a  luxury  enjoyed  by 
few  Mormon  children — and  he  Avas  gratified  to  see  that  she 
was  making  good  use  of  her  opportunities.  She  was  very 
ambitious,  and  her  love  for  books  was  only  equalled  by  her 
love  for  music.  As  his  two  little  daughters  were  brought 
together.  Elder  Northfield  did  not  fail  to  note  a  wide  differ- 
ence between  them  in  every  respect.  The  culture  thjit 
Mayon's  mind  had  received  from  her  mother  gave  an  acute- 
ness  of  intelligence  to  her  that  was  lacking  in  Nell.  Their 
dispositions,  too,  were  so  totally  unlike  that  often  by  com- 
parison Nell  became  positively  disagreeable.  Nell  did  not 
bring  as  much  happiness  to  her  father's  home  as  he  had  ex- 
pected, and  not  being  opposed  to  education,  as  njost  Mor- 
mons were,  he  could  see  that  Mayon's  superiority  lay  to  a 
deirree  in  the  cultivation  she  had  received  from  her  mother 
in  both  mind  and  heart.  He  desired  the  same  advantages 
for  Nell,  and  as  they  could  not  be  obtained  outside  of  his 


158  ELDER   NORTIIFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

own  home,  Marion  granted  liis  request  and  undertook  first 
to  teach  Nell  to  read.  She  proved  a  dull  scholar,  and  was  a 
great  trial  to  her  foster-mother.  The  latter  felt  that  she 
was  robbing  her  own  child  of  time  that  would  otherwise  be 
devoted  to  her,  and  as  only  a  few  years  more  could  be  hers 
to  care  for  and  teach  Mayon,  she  could  not  willinglv  devote 
her  time  to  Nell  with  no  apparent  good  result.  Nell  was 
ver}'  capricious  and  could  not  be  made  to  study  hard  by  any 
means  whatever.  She  often  was  very  rebellious  and  caused 
Mrs.  Northfield  a  great  deal  of  trouble.  The  latter  was  dis- 
couraged, and  her  husband  became  discouraged  also.  Nell 
was  a  perverse,  wilful  child,  who  wanted  her  own  way  en- 
tirely, but  given  that,  she  could  make  herself  very  winsome 
and  sweet.  Thus  it  came  about  that  she  was  left  ver\^  much 
to  her  own  sweet  will  and  therefore  appeared  to  much  better 
advantage. 

Marion  had  given  up  all  society  as  far  as  was  possible  to 
do  without  neglecting  her  duty  to  her  husband,  but  one  in- 
stitution, namely,  the  theatre,  she  assiduously  attended 
with  Mayon,  young  as  she  was.  Her  husband  nearly  always 
accompanied  her,  and  now  Nell  went  with  them  wlienever 
she  wished.  Elder  Northfield  often  wondered  at  his  wife  s 
fondness  for  the  theatre  to  the  exclusion  of  every  other 
amusement,  and  also  at  her  habit  of  taking  Maj^on  always, 
when  on  all  other  occasions  she  insisted  on  the  child's  early 
retiring^.  He  did  not  know  that  she  was  educatins;  her  for  a 
Gentile  life,  and  desired  to  make  her  familiar  with  the  Gen- 
tile scenes  which  were  portrayed  on  the  stage.  Her  means 
were  so  limited  for  teaching  her  Gentile  beliefs,  manners  and 
customs  that  none  must  be  slighted,  and  many  pleasant 
thoughts  Avere  awakened  in  Mayon's  mind,  many  agreeable 
impressions  formed  concerning  the  Gentile  world.  This  was 
as  her  mother  intended.  Although  it  would  not  do  for  her 
to  openly  speak  to  her  against  Mormonism  and  in  favor  of 


SACRIFICED    ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  159 

Gentile  life,  yet  she  could  and  did  constantly  throw  around 
her  little  unseen  influences  which  were  doing  their  work. 
As  long  as  was  possible  she  had  kept  her  daughter  ignorant 
of  the  existence  of  polygamy,  but  now  she  nad  arrived  at 
the  age  when,  with  it  all  around  her,  she  could  not  fail  to 
notice  the  plurality  of  wives  and  contrast  it  with  the  Gentile 
custom  in  that  respect  as  it  was  portrayed  by  the  theatre, 
by  the  few  books  Marion  had  been  able  to  put  in  her  hands, 
and  by  her  mother's  description  of  life  in  the  Gentile  world. 
Of  the  misery  of  polygamy  she  knew  nothing,  and  was  too 
young  to  realize  its  existence. 


160  ELDER  NOniHFIELD's  HOME;  OR, 


CHAPTER  X. 

BETWEEN  Elder  Xorthfield  and  his  wife  thero  seldom 
passed  any  words  with  reference  to  polygam\'.  Each 
felt  that  it  was  a  painful  subject  to  be  avoided  by  them,  as 
they  could  never  agree  upon  it.  ]Marion  had  no  means  of 
knowing  whether  her  husband  ever  contemplated  again  en- 
tering into  the  patriarchal  order  of  marriage.  She  was  con- 
stantly in  fear  of  it,  however,  but  never  for  one  moment  did 
she  think  of  interceding  to  prevent  such  a  calamity  again 
coming  upon  her,  or  of  obtaining  his  promise  to  the  con- 
trary. She  knew  he  would  never  bind  himself  again  to  a 
course  th-it  might  conflict  with  his  sense  of  duty,  and  even 
if  he  would,  she  had  learned  from  past  experience  that  such 
promises  would  avail  nothing.  So  she  could  only  wait,  and 
fear,  and  hope,  and  accept  her  fate,  whatever  it  might  be. 
She  would  not  have  been  surprised  at  any  time  had  he  told 
her  he  was  thinking  of  taking  another  wife,  but  she  was  not 
prepared  for  the  announcement  that  he  one  day  made  to 
her  that  on  the  morrow  he  was  to  be  married.  Marion 
heard  her  husband,  but  she  did  not  comprehend  him.  The 
blow  fell  so  suddenly,  so  heavily,  that  it  shattered  her  reason 
for  tlie  time. 

'' ^larried — married,  did  you  say?     Vvlio  is  to  be  mar- 
ried ?  " 

"  I  am  to  be  married,  my  dear  wife ;  don't  you  understand^ 
me?" 

"Yes,  I  do.     I  know  you  were  married.     I  remember  it 
well.     I  gave  her  to  you,  but  I  thought  she  was  dead." 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  161 

"Helen  is  dead,  Marlon,  but  I  am  going  to  take  another 
wife  to-morrow.  Marion  !  Marion  !  why  do  you  look  at  me 
so?  My  poor,  dear  wife!  Believe  me,  I  pity  you.  I  have 
l'>ut  this  off  as  long  as  I  could  for  your  sake."  And  now  he 
threw  his  strong  arms  around  her,  and  pressed  her  lips  with 
kisses.  But  slie  heeded  them  not.  "  I  have  not  told  you," 
he  continued,  "because  I  wouhi  not  pain  you  sooner  than 
need  be.  I  could  not  bear  that  you  should  know  what  was 
coming  and  suffer  in  anticipation.  So  I  let  you  be  happy 
as  long  as  I  could,  Marion,  and  as  it  could  not  be  helped, 
why  should  I  tell  you  before?  It  is  not  my  wish  to  do  this, 
but  my  duty  ;  and  my  love  is  all  your  own.  I  will  not  for- 
sake you  as  I  did  once  for  another.  Marion !  Marion ! 
speak  to  me !  " 

But  Marion  could  not  speak.  She  did  not  hear  his  sad 
tones  as  he  tried  to  soften  the  effects  of  the  blow  he  had 
dealt  her.  He  looked  into  her  face,  white  and  immovable 
as  death,  and  exclaimed  : 

"My  God  !  have  I  killed  her?  " 

But  she  had  only  fainted,  and  though  it  was  long  before 
*jhe  could  be  brought  back  to  consciousness,  yet  at  last  she 
opened  her  eyes  and  at  sight  of  her  husband  bending  over 
her,  anxiously  watching  for  a  token  of  returning  life,  she 
turned  her  face  aside  and  groaned. 

"Marion,"  said  he. 

"  Don't  speak  to  me  !  "  she  cried.  "  Don't  look  at  me  !  I 
can't  bear  it!  I  expected  it,  but  not  Hke  this— not  thus 
suddenly.  Henry  Northfield,  you  either  do  not  love  your 
wife,  or  you  are  crazy  !  Yes,  crazy  with  Mormonism !  I 
could  not  comprehend  what  you  said  at  first.  Now,  I  do. 
I  have  dreaded  it  these  years,  and  expected  to  be  al>le  to 
bear  it,  but  now  to  think  of  living  over  the  old  misery  worse 
than  death.  I  find  I  cannot  bear  it,  and  I  will  not.  If  I 
must  be  wretched,  I  will  be  wretched  somewhere  else. 
11 


162  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's    HOME;    OR, 

Henry,  I'll  go  to-morrow  to  the  Endowment  House  and  give 
you  another  wife,  and  then  you  may  bring  her  here,  devote 
yourself  to  her,  and  make  her  happy,  till  duty  compels  you 
to  take  another,  and  I  will  go.  One  wife  is  enough  at  a 
time.  Yes,  I  will  take  Mayon,  and  we  will  go  somewhere 
among  the  Gentiles.  We  will  separate.  We  can  never  be 
happy  together  again — we  will  not  try.  But  my  boy  !  My 
Forest !  How  can  I  part  with '  him !  O,  why  was  I  ever 
created  to  be  so  wretched  !  " 

"  Marion,  is  Forest  the  only  tie  that  would  bind  you  here  ? 
Have  you  no  love  for  your  husband?  Pity  me,  my  wife, 
and  believe  that  my  heart  aches  for  you,  and  that  I  feel  my 
load  is  hard  to  bear,  but  God  does  not  willingly  afflict. 
Marion,  do  you  wish  to  leave  me  ?  " 

Marion  could  not  answer.  At  last  she  said :  "  I  must 
leave  you.  I  feel  that  I  shall  go  mad  if  I  stay.  Would  to 
God  I  had  never  loved  you  !  " 

This  thrust  cut  into  her  husband's  very  soul.  He  felt  that 
he  did  not  deserve  it.  He  would  not  willingly  have  given 
the  slightest  pain  to  his  wife  and  sought  by  every  means  to 
make  her  happy,  only  he  had  placed  his  duty  to  God  and 
religion  first,  and  when  that  duty  conflicted  with  his  happi- 
ness he  had  sacrificed  the  latter.  He  was  very  wretched 
now,  and  dis«.ppointed  at  the  violence  of  her  grief.  He  had 
thought  that  a  second  trial  of  this  kind  would  not  seem  so 
hard  as  the  first.  He  believed  something  in  the  Mormon 
theory  of  "getting  used  to  it,"  but  he  did  not  know  a 
woman's  heart.  He  did  not  know  that  a  second  crushing 
blow  was  more  terrible  in  its  effects  than  the  first. 

"  Marion,"  said  he,  "  let  me  tell  you  about  the  one  I  have 
chosen,  and  I  think  you  will  feel  better  about  it." 

"  No  need  of  telling  me ;  I  care  for  only  one  thing.  Tell 
rae  that,  please,  and  no  more.  Will  she  be  kind  to 
Forest?" 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  163 

"  I  am  sure  she  will." 

*'And  if  not,  you  will  be;  and  he  is  not  a  little  child  now, 
or  I  could  not  leave  him.  Perhaps  I  shall  come  back  again, 
some  time.  But  tell  me  one  thing  more :  Henry,  will  you  be 
happy  with  her  when  I  am  gone?  I  do  not  want  you  to  be 
miserable,"  and  a  shade  of  tenderness  came  into  Marion's 
voice  as  she  asked  this  question. 

"  Happy  !  Happy  without  you,  Marion  ?  Never !  Do 
you  realize  that  you  are  the  only  one  on  earth  that  I  love  ? 
I  never  have  spoken  to  this  young  woman  but  four  or  five 
times  in  my  life.  I  never  have  whispered  one  word  of  love 
to  her.  I  asked  her  to  be  my  wife,  for  I  was  obliged  to  ask 
some  one,  and  after  much  thought  she  has  consented.  Happy 
with  her  alone !  Marion,  0  do  not  think  of  leaving  me ;  I 
cannot  let  you  go  !     You  must  not  leave  me." 

And  tightly  her  husband  clasped  her  hand  in  his.  Marion 
struggled  to  free  herself,  and  exclaimed : 

"  Stop  !  Do  not  dare  to  keep  me !  I  must  go !  I  must 
go!" 

"  Marion,  we  will  put  off  the  marriage  till  you  feel  better." 

"  I  never  shall  feel  better,  here.  You  shall  not  put  the 
day  off;  the  sooner  it  is  over  the  better !  Do  not  fear  that 
I  shall  make  a  scene,  Henry  ;  I  shall  be  very  calm  then,  and 
she  will  never  know  what  I  suffer." 

In  vain  did  Elder  Northfield  strive  to  persuade  his  wife 
to  relinquish  the  idea  she  had  conceived,  or  to  allow  him  to 
postpone  his  marriage.  He  would  have  insisted  on  the  lat- 
ter, however,  if  he  had  believed  that  she  would  adhere  to 
her  determination.  But  he  relied  on  her  calmer  considera- 
tion of  the  matter,  and  her  affection  for  him,  to  change  her 
determination,  and  preparations  for  the  marriage  went  on 
accordingly. 

Mrs.  Northfield  scarcely  realized  her  situation.  She  was 
not  quite  herself.    One  thing  impressed  itself  upon  her  mind 


164  ELDER   NORTIIFIELd's   HOME  ;   OR, 

to  the  exclusion  of  evcrytliing  else:  she  was  to  save  Mayon 
from  Mormonisni,  much  sooner  than  she  had  expected.  She 
was  to  go  witli  her  herself  to  the  Gentile  world.  After  all, 
tlie  mucli  dreaded  separation  was  never  to  take  place.  Ma3'on 
should  be  hers  alwa3"s.  Her  beautiful,  darling  child  was  not 
to  be  sent  into  the  wide  world  alone,  but  she  was  going  with 
her,  and  together  they  would  escape  from  this  hateful  place. 
One  idea  filled  her  mind,  and  that  was  their  departure  from 
Mormonism.  She  spent  what  little  time  remained  in  pre^ 
paring  for  her  departure.  She  sent  to  Mrs.  Atwood's,  asking 
the  gift  of  the  picture  of  herself  and  husband,  and  then  clip- 
j^ing  a  tress  from  among  her  golden  locks,  which  were  still 
beautiful,  though  of  a  paler  hue  now,  and  one  long,  shining 
curl  from  Mayon 's  head,  she  placed  them,  with  the  picture, 
where  he  would  find  them  on  first  entering  the  house  after 
liis  marriage,  saying  to  herself: 

"  He  shall  not  think  I  went  away  hating  him.     If  he 
should  grieve  for  us  these  little  tokens  will  comfort  him." 

The  next  day  Mayon  came  to  her  father  with  a  tearful 
face. 

"  Papa,"  said  she,  "  are  you  going  to  get  another  w^ife, 
to-day  ?  " 

''Yes,  Mayon,  and  she  will  come  home  with  me  to-night. 
iHow  did  you  know  ?  Has  mamma  told  you  ?  " 
*  "  No,  Forest  told  me.  I  go  to  mamma  and  she  hardly 
speaks  to  me,  and  looks  so  sad  and  miserable,  and  I  saw  her 
wipe  away  some  tears  this  morning,  and  she  shuts  herself 
into  her  room  and  into  my  room,  and  doesn't  let  me  come 
in  when  I  ask  her.  T  sat  down  and  cried  a  little  while  ago, 
and  Forest  came  and  asked  me  what  I  was  crying  for,  and 
I  told  him,  and  asked  him  what  ailed  mamma,  and  he  said 
you  were  going  to  get  another  wife  to-day,  and  that  was 
what  she  was  crying  about.  Papa,  please  don't  get  another 
wife;  it  makes  mamma  feel  so  bad.     We  don't  want  another 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  165 

mother,  and  you  can't  be  mamma's  husband  and  hers,  too. 
Isn't  mamma  a  good  enough  wife,  papa?" 

''Yes,  child,  too  good  for  me  to  have/' 

"Is  that  why  you  are  getting  another,  then,  papa?  Do 
you  want  tlie  new  one  to  do  the  work  and  teacliir.g  mamma 
does,  so  that  mamma  can  go  out  with  you,  and  always  bo 
dressed  nice,  and  have  time  to  play  with  us  all  she  wishes? 
That  wouldn't  be  so  bad,  but  mamma  doesn't  want  her  at 
all,  so  please— i)lease,  papa,  don't  get  her." 

Elder  Northfield  had  listened  till  he  could  hear  no  more, 
and  untwining  her  arms  from  his  neck,  he  put  her  away 
from  him  and  hastily  left  the  house. 

At  the  appointed  hour  Marion  accompanied  her  husband 
to  the  Endowment  House,  not,  however,  without  first  throw- 
ing her  arms- around  his  neck  and  sobbing  like  a  child,  with 
her  head  on  his  shoulder. 

She  that  day  gave  him  another  wife,  sealed  unto  herself 
a  new  doom  of  misery,  and  hardly  knew  what  she  did.  She 
had  no  interest  in  the  bride,  and  scarcely  saw  her  or  any- 
thing else.  She  felt  bewildered.  Only  one  thing  w^as  clear 
to  her:  her  carriage  was  to  be  ready  at  her  door  for  an  im- 
mediate start  towards  some  Gentile  settlement  she  knew  the 
location  of,  and  she  and  Mayon  were  to  leave  Mormonism 
forever.  But  suddenly,  as  she  comprehended  some  words 
o'i  the  closhig  part  of  the  ceremony,  she  became  faint,  end 
fell  to  the  floor. 

Her  husband,  their  husband  he  was  then,  left  his  bride's 
side  and  lifted  her  with  all  the  tenderness  he  would  have 
felt  had  she  fainted  on  her  own  wedding-day. 

And  now  came  a  blank  in  Mrs.  Northfield's  life;  a  long 
blank  to  which  in  the  future  she  looked  back  with  the  feel- 
ing that  a  part  of  her  life  had  been  lost  to  her. 

Her  first  rational  impression,  after  the  ordeal  passed  in  the 


1G6  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's    HOME;    OR, 

Endowment  House,  was  of  a  small,  diml3'-lighted  room, 
plainly  furnished,  but  so  pure  and  neat,  with  its  white  mus- 
lin curtains,  its  little  round  table,  with  its  vase  of  flowers, 
two  or  three  chairs — one  an  easy-chair — and  the  bed  of  spot- 
less purity,  on  which  she  la3^  She  had  one  glimpse  of  the 
outer  world  through  a  half-closed  shutter.  Instead  of  look^ 
ing  through  an  open  window  at  summer  skies  and  verdant 
foliage,  as  she  last  saw  the  face  of  nature,  the  window  was 
now  closed,  a  fire  was  burning  in  an  open  grate,  and  the 
trees  that  swayed  in  the  wind  were  leafless.  She  compre- 
hended that  time  had  passed  unconsciously  to  her.  She 
looked  about  on  her  surroundings,  felt  the  sweet  soothing 
influences  around  her,  and  dropped  into  a  light  slumber. 

Again  she  awoke,  and  then  all  the  past  came  back  to  her. 
She  was  doubtless  somewhere  in  the  Gentile  world,  escaped 
at  last  from  Mormonism.  But  where  was  she?  and  how  did 
she  come  there?  who  was  so  kindly  caring  for  her?  and 
where  was  Mayon?  Then  she  thought  of  her  home  in  Salt 
Lake  City,  and  of  her  husband  living  in  their  old  home  with 
his  new  wife.  She  wondered  if  he  missed  her  and  ^layon — 
if  he  found  the  keepsakes  she  left  for  him,  and  cherished 
them  for  love  of  his  dear  ones. 

Again  she  slept,  and  on  again  awaking,  a  new  charm  had 
been  added  to  her  room.  Drawn  up  before  the  fire  was  the 
easy-chair,  and  in  it  the  familiar  form  of  Edith  Parker. 
Edith  had  become  a  woman  now,  and  all  through  her  child- 
hood and  youth  had  been  one  of  Marion's  few  friends.  The 
calm  purity  that  pervaded  the  room  was  now  increased  by 
the  sweet  pale  face  of  Edith,  which  had  never  outgrown  the 
look  of  sadness  it  had  worn  in  her  childhood. 

"  Edith,"  said  Mrs.  Northfield,  "  I  am  glad  you  came  too; 
but  where  is  Mayon?" 

Edith's  face  lit  up  with  glad  surprise,  as  she  turned  toward 
the  bed  and  said : 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  167 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Northfield,  I  am  so  glad  j^ou  are  better.  May  on 
is  ill  the  next  room,  and  you  shall  see  her  if  you  will  promise 
not  to  talk  any  more  now." 

Marion  felt  like  a  willing  and  obedient  child  under  the 
influence  of  sweet  Edith  Parker,  and  she  gave  the  desired 
promise.  Edith  left  the  room  and  soon  returned  with 
Mayon,  who,  fearful  of  disturbing  her  mother,  came  in 
noiselessly,  but  with  a  face  radiant  with  happiness. 

"  Mamma,  darling,"  said  she,  as  she  laid  her  face  beside 
her  mother's,  "you  know  your  Mayon  now,  don't  you?  I 
have  mourned  so  because  you  did  not  know  your  little  girl, 
and  would  not  have  her  with  you,  but  they  let  me  come  in 
when  you  were  asleep,  and  watch  you,  and  0  I  did  love  to 
do  even  that,  mamma." 

But  the  mother  forgot  her  promise  not  to  talk,  and  Edith 
saw  she  was  tiring  herself  with  Mayon,  so  she  gently  per- 
suaded her  to  send  her  away,  and  so  weak  was  the  sufferer 
that  she  was  now  exhausted  by  her  excitement. 

Days  passed,  and  she  remained  so  weak  that  she  could 
scarcely  talk  at  all.  She  was  unconscious  much  of  the  time, 
but  at  intervals  her  mind  was  clear,  though  it  partook  of 
the  feebleness  of  the  whole  body.  As  she  lay  there  watch- 
ing Edith  glide  in  and  out,  felt  her  soft  touch  on  her  throb- 
bing brow,  listened  to  her  sweet  voice,  as  she  spoke  in  low 
tones  words  of  cheer  and  affection,  she  seemed  to  Marion 
like  a  ministering  angel  sent  to  guard  her  in  her  life  in  a 
new  world. 

"  Edith,"  said  she  one  day,  "  your  mother  is  looking  down 
from  heaven  and  rejoicing  now  to  know  that  at  last  her 
little  girl  has  escaped  from  what  she  called  a  'hell  upon 
earth.'  I  did  not  think  when  I  tried  to  grant  her  request 
and  send  you  into  the  Gentile  world  that  you  would  wait 
and  go  with  me — that  we  should  escape  together." 

Edith  turned  to  hide  her  face  from  the  speaker,  but  did 


168  ELBEPv   NORTHFIELD's   HOME  ;   OR, 

not  reply.  As  soon  as  the  latter  gained  strength  she  spoko 
again : 

"I  vronder  sometimes  where  I  am,  but  have  felt  too  weak 
to  ask  or  to  care  as  long  as  I  knew  Mayon  and  I  were  safe 
i:i  the  Gentile  world  and  3'ou  were  with  us;  but  now,  p]dith, 
tell  me  how  we  came  here,  where  we  are,  and  whose  house 
this  is?    "Who  are  the  kind  people  who  have  taken  us  in  ?  " 

"  We  are  in  one  of  the  pleasar.test  of  places,  and  Mrs.  Mar- 
thi  is  the  lady  of  the  house.  She  is  very  kind,  and  glad  to 
know  you  are  improving." 

"  Have  I  been  very  sick,  Edith  ? "' 

"  Yes,  very ;  but  you  have  had  excellent  medical  skill, 
and  we  have  tried  to  give  you  the  best  of  care.  Now,  can 
you  not  rest  before  you  talk  any  more?  Your  physician 
says  you  must  be  kept  very  quiet  till  you  grow  stronger. 
Try  to  be  patient,  and  when  you  can  talk  more  I  will  tell 
you  all  about  it." 

She  was  obliged  to  rest,  but  she  did  not  feel  satisfied  with 
the  meagre  information  she  received.  The  next  day  she 
said  to  Edith : 

"Sometimes,  when  I  think  it  all  over,  I  wish  I  had  not 
taken  this  step.  I  am  glad  for  your  sake  and  Mayon's,  but 
I  can  never  be  happy  away  from  my  husband.  I  never 
could  be  happy  with  him,  I  know  nov/,  but  I  know,  as  I 
think  of  it,  that  he  loves  me,  and  I  can  realize  now  what 
pain  it  cost  him  to  bring  this  trouble  upon  me.  He  did  not 
wish  to  do  it,  but  was  forced  into  it  by  his  religion.  It  was 
not  Henry's  fault,  but  the  fault  of  Mormonism.  I  keep 
thinking  of  his  assurances  that  he  could  not  be  happy  with- 
out me,  and  see,  as  I  did  not  then,  how  sad  he  was,  and  I 
think  I  should  have  pitied  ratlier  than  blame  him.  If  he 
really  was  grieved  to  have  me  leave  him,  it  was  cruel  for  mo 
to  do  so,  and  I  have  done  worse  than  he,  for  I  deserted  him 
for  my  own  sake,  and  he  was  true  in  heart  to  me,  though 


SACRIFICED   OX   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  169 

compelled  to  an  act  of  unfaithfulness  by  the  Church.  Somc- 
tinjes  I  think  I  will  leave  INIayon  with  you  and  go  back  to 
liim  if  he  would  take  me  back.  Do  you  ever  hear  from  him, 
Edith?" 

"  Yes,  I  have  heard  of  him  several  times." 
"And  I  suppose  he  brought  his  wife  to  our  home?" 
"  Yes,  he  brought  her  there  after  the  marriage." 
"Yes,  but  not  till  after  the  carriage  I  had  ordered  had 
taken  us  away.     Is  he  living  happily  with  her  now,  do  you 
think,  Edith,  or  do  you  think  he  would  be  j^ktd  to  have  me 
come  back  ?  " 

"  I  know  he  wants  you  to  come  back,  dear  Mrs.  North- 
field,  and  he  is  not  living  with  her  at  all  now." 
'  "  Not  living  with  her  !     Why  not  ?     Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  He  did  not  love  her,  nor  she  him,  and  she  wished  to  go 
away,  and  so  she  went  and  is  with  her  friends." 

"And  Henry,  and  Forest,  and  Nell  are  living  alone.  Edith, 
I  hate  that  wife.  I  cannot  help  it;  but  not  so  much  as  I 
should  if  she  loved  him.  O,  do  you  tliink  I  could  possibly 
go  back  to  him  ?  He  has  been  so  kind  to  me  through  it  all, 
and  some  time  I  believe  he  wiil  be  converted  back  to  the 
Gentile  belief.  But,  Edith,  you  do  not  tell  me  all  I  wish  to 
know.  You  do  not  answer  my  questions  fully.  Tell  metlio 
^vhole  now ;  I  am  strong  enough  to  hear  it." 

"If  you  knew  that  you  could  go  back  to  yoar  husband 
to-day,  would  you  be  glad  to  go  ?  " 

"  I  would,  I  think,  if  I  could  leave  Mayon  and  you  here. 
I  would  rather  be  separated  fron^  her  sooner  than  I  expected, 
if  I  could  leave  her  in  your  care,  than  to  take  her  back.  I 
would  rather  leave  her  than  to  continue  this  separation  from 
my  husband  ;  but  if  ^Nlayon  had  to  go  back  with  me  I  should 
hesitate.  But  tell  me  all  about  our  leaving  the  Mormon 
world,  and  where  we  are;  or,  Edith,"  she  exclaimed  excitedly, 
as  II  new  suspicion  flashed  into  her  mind,  "have  we  not 
left  it  at  all  ?    Where  are  we  ?  " 


170  ELDER  NORTHFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

"My  dear  friend,  try  to  be  calm  and  I  will  tell  you  all. 
We  are  still  in  Salt  Lake  City.  You  have  not  had  your 
reason  until  now  for  many  months,  and  here  was  a  quieter, 
better  place  for  you,  and  so  we  brought  you  here." 

"  Edith,  I  know  where  I  am  now.  I  am  where  your 
mother  once  told  me  I  should  be— in  the  insane  asylum  !  I 
did  not  believe  it  then,  but  she  said  it  would  be  so,  for  I  was 
the  wife  of  a  Mormon.  0,  Edith!  You  and  Mayon  are 
still  victims  of  this  cursed  religion.  Your  mother  told  me 
she  would  take  me  to  her  room  when  I  came  here.  Is  this 
the  room  that  was  hers?" 

"  Yes,  and  in  your  delirium  you  were  constantly  calling 
her  to  come  and  take  you  to  her  room,  so  the  kind  matron 
gave  this  room  to  you." 

''  Why  does  not  my  husband  come  to  see  me  if,  as  you 
say,  he  wants  me  back  again  ?  " 

"He  does  come  every  day;  but  since  your  reason  returned 
we  thought  it  not  safe  for  him  to  see  and  excite  you.  He 
came  this  morning  and  brought  these  flowers,  and  you 
should  have  seen  how  happy  he  looked  when  I  told  liim 
you  were  stronger.  You  have  for  the  past  few  weeks  been 
very  sick  with  a  fever,  and  we  have  all  been  hoping  that 
when  it  left  you  your  reason  would  return,  as  it  has." 

"  Tell  me,  now,  why  you  are  with  me,  and  something 
about  the  other  wife.  I  would  not  let  Henry  tell  me  any- 
thing about  her." 

"  I  am  with  you  because  I  am  in  a  certain  sense  the  cause 
of  your  trouble." 

"  You  the  cause  of  my  trouble !  " 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  dear  friend,  can  you  bear  to  hear  some- 
thing that  will  shock  you,  for  I  must  tell  you?  " 

"  Yes,  tell  me !  What  have  you  been  hiding  from  me  so 
long?" 

"  I  am  your  husband's  wife  !  " 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  171 

"You — Edith — my  husband's  wife!  The  woman  I  hate! 
No,  no ! " 

And  Edith  feared  that  reason  had  again  fled  as  Marion 
pressed  her  hands  to  her  brow  and  her  eyes  again  glowed 
with  the  wildnesj  of  past  days. 

"  I  love  3^ou,  Edith,  but  I  hate  my  husband's  wife!  God 
forgive  me  for  it!  You  and  she  cannot  be  the  same!  It 
cannot  be  that  you  are  so  far  from  being  safe  in  the  Gentile 
world  as  to  have  become  a  Mormon's  wife !  And  my  hus- 
band's wife !  Edith,  how  you  have  made  me  love  you  in 
these  few  days  and  now  you  tell  me  you  are  the  wife  I  gave 
to  my  husband  on  that  terrible  day  !  Am  I  again  insane  or 
is  it  true  that  you  have  told  me  ?  I  cannot  bear  to  believe 
it,  Edith,  for  I  love  you,  and  how  can  I  ever  love  my  hus- 
band's other  wife?     O,  Edith  !  how  could  you  do  it?  " 

"  Let  me  tell  you  how,  and  I  am  sure  you  will  feel  better 
and  calmer  about  it  than  you  do  now.  It  is  a  long  story, 
but  I  think  it  will  interest  you. 

"  My  mother's  instructions  and  influence  in  favor  of  the 
Gentiles  never  lost  their  efl*ect  upon  me.  I  shall  remember 
to  my  dying  day  the  repugnance  with  which  I  regarded 
polygamy,  as  I  realized  that  it  had  blighted  my  mother's 
life  and  made  her  the  wretched  woman  she  was.  She  taught 
me  to  know  the  many  wrongs  which  Mormonism  brought 
on  my  sex,  and  though  too  young  to  fully  comprehend  her, 
I  have  grown  up  looking  upon  matrimony  in  Mormonism 
as  the  greatest  trouble  that  could  come  upon  me.  But  since 
my  father,  whom  I  never  could  regard  with  any  feeling  but 
aversion  for  his  cruelty  to  my  mother — since  he  took  me  to 
one  of  his  homes,  I  have  expected  that  sooner  or  later  I 
should  be  forced  into  marriage,  as  all  Mormon  girls  are.  It 
is  a  little  strange  that  I  have  been  permitted  to  wait  so  long, 
but  it  was  not  without  persecution.  My  father  has  had 
several  oflers  of  marriage  for  me,  dating  back  to  my  fifteenth 


172  ELBri;  northfield's  home  ;  on, 

year.  All  of  lliciii  I  persistently  refused  to  consider,  and 
thus  made  him  very  angry.  On  two  occasions  he  has  treated 
me  very  cruchy  in  consequence  of  my  rebellion  against  his 
"wishes,  but  of  his  wife  Carrie  I  will  say  that  she  has  acted 
tlie  part  of  a  mother  to  my  brother  and  nw,  and  has  always 
been  very  kind  to  us.  She  never  urged  me  to  marry  ;  and  I 
always  felt  that  I  was  welcome  by  her  to  a  home,  and  in- 
deed, I  believe  she  dreaded  losing  me,  for  my  father  neglected 
her  almost  entirely,  although  providing  the  means  for  oar 
support.  I  felt  ti)at  my  father  wished  me  off  liis  hands, 
and  at  last  I  fell  sick,  as  you  remember.  You  may  not  know 
that  my  foster-mother  sent  for  a  young  Gentile  pliysician  to 
attend  me,  and  concerning  liim  I  have  a  secret  to  tell  you. 
He  was  the  first  Gentile  };erson  I  had  ever  become  acquainted 
with,  and  as  I  grew  able  to  converse  I  used  to  ask  him  all 
about  the  Gentile  faith  and  life,  and  Carrie  would  join  in  the 
conversation.  I  learned  a  great  deal  from  them  both  that 
made  me  long  to  escape  from  Mormonism.  At  last  my  phy- 
sician ceased  to  visit  me  profes3ionall3%  but  he  frequently 
called  in  a  friendly  manner,  and  I  began  to  look  for  his 
visits  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure.  My  father  knew  of  my 
sickness,  but  he  knew  very  little  of  the  particulars.  It  was 
Carrie  to  whom  I  owed  my  care.  But  at  last  lie  became 
aware  that  I  was  receiving  visits  from  a  Gentile,  and  he  very 
rudely  ordered  him  never  to  speak  to  me  again.  He  then 
forced  me  to  write  a  letter,  which  he  indited,  requesting  my 
friend  never  to  call  upon  me  again,  as  it  would  only  be  a 
source  of  trouble  to  me.  I  did  not  realize  at  the  time  how 
great- an  outrage  this  was  upon  me,  for  I  did  not  know  that 
my  friendship  for  my  Gentile  friend  was  anytliing  more  than 
friendship.  As  weeks  passed,  hovrever,  I  realized  that  ho 
was  dearer  to  me  than  any  other  friend  on  earth,  and  my 
separation  from  him  was  very  hard  to  bear.  I  do  not  know 
"whether  my  love  was  returned  or  not,  but  I  have  some 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  173 

reason  to  think  it  was.  I  shoukl  blush  to  tell  all  this  to  any 
one  but  you,  but  I  owe  you  an  unreserved  stateiucnt  of  all 
that  influenced  me  to  marry  Elder  Northfield,  and  this  was 
one  thing  that  led  to  it.  Well,  my  fatlier  was  so  angry  at  mo 
and  at  Carrie  for  entertaining  a  Crentile  that  he  declared  I 
should  marry  the  next  opportunity.  He  threatened  me  with 
violence  if  I  refused,  and  so  it  -was  not  long  before  I  was 
persecuted  by  the  attentions  of  a  young  man  whom  I  de- 
tested. I  dared  not  resent  his  advances,  however,  for  fear 
of  my  father,  and  was  obliged  to  submit  to  his  vehement 
lovemaking,  till  at  last  my  father  came  to  me,  saying  he  had 
had  another  offer  for  me,  and  a  much  better  one,  and  I  was 
at  liberty  to  choose  between  the  two.  So  I  met  Elder  North- 
field,  and  in  a  respectful,  gentlemanly  way,  without  any  pro- 
fessions of  love,  he  asked  me  to  become  his  wife.  I  asked 
time  to  consider,  and  at  last  consented.  Now,  I  will  tell 
you  why  I  accepted  his  offer.  At  first  I  was  shocked  at  the 
thought  of  being  the  one  selected  to  cause  the  kind  friend 
of  my  mother  and  my  childhood  the  trouble  I  knew  this 
would  cause,  and  I  tried  to  persuade  him  for  3'our  sake 
to  abandon  his  purpose  of  marrying  again ;  but  though  he 
expressed  his  grief  at  the  necessity  of  paining  you  again,  yet 
he  assured  me  that  it  was  his  duty  to  marry,  and  the  ques- 
tion was  not  whether  he  should  take  a  wife  or  not,  but  who 
that  wife  should  be.  If  I  would  not  accept  his  offer,  ho 
should  seek  another ;  but  he  told  me  that  he  preferred  me 
to  any  one  else,  for  the  reason  that  he  thought  it  would  give 
his  wife  less  sorrow,  as  she  was  fond  of  me.  He  frankly 
told  me  that  you  had  his  whole  heart,  and  it  was  only  as  a 
matter  of  duty  that  he  sought  another  wife  ;  but,  apologizing 
for  making  me  such  an  offer,  he  said  he  would  assure  me 
that  all  my  wants  should  be  carefully  provided  for.  and  ho 
would  promise  always  to  be  a  kind  husband  if  not  a  devoted 
one. 


174  ST.   IVES 

^•^  Why,"  said  I,  ^'^you  shave  like  an  angel,  Mr.  Row- 
ley!" 

"  Thank  you,  my  lord,"  said  he.  ''  Mr.  Fowl  had  no 
fear  of  me.  You  may  be  sure,  sir,  I  should  never  'ave  had 
this  berth  if  I  'adn^t  'ave  been  up  to  Dick.  We  been  ex- 
pecting of  you  this  month  back.  My  eye  !  I  never  see  such 
preparations.  Every  day  the  fires  has  been  kep'  up,  the 
bed  made,  and  all  I  As  soon  as  it  was  known  you  were 
coming,  sir,  I  got  the  appointment  ;  and  Fve  been  up  and 
down  since  then  like  a  Jack-in-the-box.  A  wheel  couldn't 
sound  in  the  avenue  but  what  I  was  at  the  window  !  I've 
had  a  many  disappointments  ;  but  to-night,  as  soon  as  you 
stepped  out  of  the  shay,  I  knew  it  was  my — it  was  you. 
0,  you  had  been  expected  !  Why,  when  I  go  down  to 
supper,  I'll  be  the  'ero  of  the  servants'  ^all  :  the  'ole  of  the 
staff  is  that  curious  !  " 

^'  Well,"  said  I,  ''  I  hope  you  may  be  able  to  give  a  fair 
account  of  me — sober,  steady,  industrious,  good-tempered, 
and  with  a  first-rate  character  from  my  last  place  ?  " 

He  laughed  an  embarrassed  laugh.  '^Your  hair  curls 
beautiful,"  he  said,  by  way  of  changing  the  subject. 
"  The  Viscount's  the  boy  for  curls,  though  ;  and  the  rich- 
ness of  it  is,  Mr.  Fowl  tells  me  his  don't  curl  no  more  than 
that  much  twine — by  nature.  Gettin'  old,  the  Viscount 
is.     He  'ave  gone  the  pace,  'aven't  'e,  sir  ?  " 

'^  The  fact  is,"  said  I,  ^Hhat  I  know  very  little  about 
him.  Our  family  has  been  much  divided,  and  I  have  been 
a  soldier  from  a  child." 

**  A  soldier,  Mr.  Anne,  sir  ? "  cried  Rowley,  with  a 
sudden  feverish  animation.     ^' Was  yon  ever  wounded  ?" 

It  is  contrary  to  my  principles  to  discourage  admiration 
for  myself  ;  and,  slipping  back  the  shoulder  of  the  dress- 
ing-gown, I  silently  exhibited  the  scar  which  I  had  re- 
ceived in  Edinburgh  Castle.     He  looked  at  it  with  awe. 


175 

''Ah,  well!"  he  continued,  ''there's  where  the  differ- 
ence comes  in  !  It's  in  the  training.  The  other  Viscount 
have  been  horse-racing,  and  dicing,  and  carrying  on  all  his 
life.  All  right  enough,  no  doubt ;  but  what  I  do  say  is, 
that  it  don't  lead  to  nothink.     Whereas " 

"  Whereas  Mr.  Eowley's  ?  "  I  put  in. 

"My  Viscount  ?''  said  he.  "Well,  sir,  I  did  say  it; 
and  now  that  I've  seen  you,  I  say  it  again  !" 

I  could  not  refrain  from  smiling  at  this  outburst,  and 
the  rascal  caught  me  in  the  mirror  and  smiled  to  me  again. 

"  I'd  say  it  again,  Mr.  Hanne,"  he  said.  "  I  know  which 
side  my  bread's  buttered.  I  know  when  a  gen'leman's  a 
gen'leman.  Mr.  Powl  can  go  to  Putney  with  his  one  !  Beg 
your  pardon,  Mr.  Anne,  for  being  so  familiar,"  said  he, 
blushing  suddenly  scarlet,  "  I  was  especially  warned 
against  it  by  Mr.  Powl." 

"  Discipline  before  all,"  said  I.  "  Follow  your  front- 
rank  man." 

With  that,  we  began  to  turn  our  attention  to  the  clothes. 
I  was  amazed  to  find  them  fit  so  well  :  not  a  la  diahle,  in 
the  haphazard  manner  of  a  soldier's  uniform  or  a  ready- 
made  suit  ;  but  with  nicety,  as  a  trained  artist  might  re- 
joice to  make  them  for  a  favourite  subject. 

"  'Tis  extraordinary,"  cried  I :  "  these  things  fit  me  per- 
fectly." 

"  Indeed,  Mr.  Anne,  you  two  be  very  much  of  a  shape," 
said  Eowley. 

"  Who  ?     What  two  ?  "  said  I. 

"  The  Viscount,"  he  said. 

"  Damnation  !  Have  I  the  man's  clothes  on  me,  too  ?  " 
cried  I. 

But  Rowley  hastened  to  reassure  me.  On  the  first  word 
of  my  coming,  the  Count  had  put  the  matter  of  my  ward- 
robe in  the  hands  of  his  own  and  my  cousin's  tailors  ;  and 


176  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

longed  for  liis  coming,  that  she  miglii,  assure  liim  of  lier  sor- 
row and  love  for  him.  But  he  was  nearer  than  she  thought. 
Editli  was  called  out,  end  returned  saying  Elder  Northiield 
was  at  the  door  and  waiting  to  see  his  wife,  if  she  was  able 
to  benr  the  interview.  Marion  signalled  for  him  to  come  in, 
and  Edith  left  her,  feeling  that  her  presence  would  be  an 
intrusion. 

Too  sacred  for  pen  to  descri'^je  was  the  meeting  between 
husband  and  wife,  and  the  scene  must  be  left  for  the  imagin- 
ation to  paint. 

From  this  time  Mrs.  Korthfield  rapidly  gained  in  strength, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  she  was  able  to  be  removed  to 
her  home.  Then  there  was  great  rejoicing  in  that  reunited 
fomily.  Even  Nell  had  missed  lier  motherly  care,  and  was 
very  happy  at  her  return.  She  had  been  quite  lonel}'  witli- 
out  Mayon,  who  had  begged  so  hard  to  go  with  her  mother, 
that  she  could  not  be  denied. 

Edith  felt  some  misgivings  now  at  entering  this  home  a 
polygamic  wife;  but  she  soon  settled  into  her  place  as  assist- 
ant to  her  friend  and  sister-wife  in  the  domestic  cares,  and 
in  the  care  of  the  children.  She  kept  herself  secluded,  as 
much  as  possible,  from  their  husband,  avoiding  him  almost 
exclusively.  Her  evenings  she  spent  in  her  own  room,  or 
with  the  children,  never  joining  Marion  when  her  husband 
was  present.  Clarion  j)rotesLed  against  this,  but  Edith  ex- 
pressed her  desire  that  it  should  be  so,  for,  although  she 
respected  her  husband,  yet  his  society  revived  unpleasant 
thoughts,  and  was  a  source  of  irritation  to  her.  She  wished 
to  live  more  as  a  helper  in  the  family  and  companion  to 
jMarion,  than  as  a  wife.  She  was  treated  with  the  utmost 
kindness  by  the  whole  family,  and  in  no  respect  could  Mrs. 
Northfield  look  upon  her  as  usurping  her  rights.  Still,  had 
she  really  been  what  she  seemed — a  sister,  or  merely  a  dear 
friend — there  would  not  be  the  fact  for  her  to  realize  that 


CACr.IFICED   ON   THI^   jrOP.T.ION   ALTAI?.  177 

bIic  Vs'as  living  in  polygam}',  that  licr  husband  had  a,nothcr 

There  vrcrc  3'et  obstaeles  in  the  way  of  her  ]iap])in(s?,  and 
one  unknown  to  any  but  herself.  INIayon  was  growing  older, 
and  uneonscioush'  nearing  tlic  destiny  foreordained  for  her. 
The  ])rospect  of  the  building  of  the  Great  Paeific  Railway 
seemed  to  open  the  way  for  the  carr3'ing  out  of  Tvli's.  Nortli- 
field's  plan.  A  most  formidable  undertaking  it  seemed  for 
Mayon  to  attempt  such  a  terrible  journey  as  vrould  be  neces- 
sary with  the  facilities  for  travelling  existing  then.  How  h.er 
object  could  be  accomplished  with  personal  safety  to  Mayon, 
and  with  security  from  discovery  and  pursuit  from  her  father 
and  the  Church  authorities,  was  a  question  the  mother  had 
been  unable  to  solve.  But  she  believed  a  way  would  bo 
opened  before  the  time  came.  Therefore  the  news  of  a  rail- 
way to  be  constructed  from  ocean  to  ocean,  just  at  that  time, 
seemed  to  her  like  help  sent  from  Heaven. 

Hero  was  to  be  provided  a  Avay  of  escape  for  her  darling, 
safe  from  the  perils  of  the  emigrant  life,  and  suTe  to  succeed 
in  bearing  her  away  from  pursuers  or  enemies.  This  scheme 
of  Marion's  was  a  heavy  burden  on  her  conscience  and  a 
weight  on  her  spirits,  as  she  realized  that  it  was  deceit  and 
treachery  towards  her  husband.  She  felt  that  it  was  wrong- 
ing him,  to  rob  him  of  his  daughter  just  as  she  bloomed 
into  womanhood,  and  that  in  sending  her  away  from  her 
f.itlier's  religion  and  people,  she  was  assuming  more  than 
her  right  in  their  cliild.  She  sometimes  entertained  the 
thought  of  confessing  to  him  her  scheme  for  Mayon's  future, 
and  trusting  to  his  kindness  and  affection  to  allow  tlieir 
child  to  decide  for  herself,  and  she  felt  sure  slie  would  decide 
v.'isely.  But  she  knew  his  unwavering  faith,  that  in  i\Ior- 
monism  only  lay  the  salvation  of  himself  and  family,  and 
she  feared  that  duty — a  terrible  word  to  her — would  lead 
him,  against  the  dictations  of  his  own  heart,  to  use  inilu- 
12 


178  KLDER    NORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;   OR, 

enccs  or  commands  which  could  not  be  resisted.  She  dared 
not  confide  in  him  for  fear  of  his  terrible  religion — a  religion 
which  could  force  a  fair  young  girl  into  a  wretched  bond- 
age, and  destroy  or  outrage  every  womanly  instinct  of  her 
soul. 

Mrs.  Northfield  could  not  run  that  risk.  Better,  a  thou- 
sand times  better,  wrong  her  husband,  than  wrong  her 
daughter  to  the  extent  of  blighting  her  whole  life !  Better 
bring  down  his  anger  and  indignation,  and  even  the  malig- 
nity of  the  Church,  upon  her  own  head,  than  allow  Mor- 
monism  to  bring  upon  May  on  what  it  had  brought  upon 
her  mother.  So  the  mother  carried  the  burden  of  her  secret 
year  after  year. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  179 


CHAPTER  XL 

"I^TANY  hnnclrcd  miles  from  the  scenes  portrayed  by  tho 
-Lt.1.  preceding  pages,  in  a  liouse  furnished  with  every 
luxury  and  comfort  its  inmates  desired,  sat  an  elderly  lady 
reading  stories  to  two  little  children,  sitting  at  her  feet,  and 
eagerly  listening  to  the  words  as  the}^  fell  from  her  lips.  At 
one  side  of  the  room,  near  a  window,  a  girl,  who  had  out- 
grown such  childish  stories,  sat  poring  over  a  hook  of  her 
own,  all  oblivious  of  everything  else.  The  lady  had  a  calm, 
sweet  expression,  and  her  eyes  had  not  lost  their  youthful 
brilliancy,  though  her  hair  was  silvery  gray.  The  little  girl 
at  the  window  suddenly  tossed  her  sunny  curls  from  her 
face,  threw  down  her  book,  and  her  blue  eyes  sparkled,  as 
she  exclaimed  : 

"  There  come  mamma  and  Harry !  I'll  meet  them  first, 
Dot  and  Daisy." 

The  stories  were  miheeded  now%  and  the  two  little  ones 
scampered  away  down  to  the  gate,  with  their  sister  Lillian, 
who  good-naturedly  fell  behind  and  allowed  them  to  win 
the  race. 

The  mother  was  the  perfect  picture  of  health,  beauty,  and 
joy,  as  she  received  the  hearty  welcome  of  her  little  ones. 
Harr}',  who  had  previously  trudged  along  demurely  by  her 
side,  caught  the  infection  of  the  race,  and  instituted  another, 
for  his  own  l)ene(it,  calling  on  his  mother  to  catch  them. 
One  and  all  they  merrily  brought  up  at  the  door,  wliere  the 
elderly  lady  stood  watching  them,  with  a  smile  of  satisfac- 
tion. 


ISO  ELDEn   NOr.TIIFIELD's   JIOME  ;   OH, 

"  Vv'en,  aunt  Vrd]?,  have  these  babies  been  good  ?  "  asked 
the  young  n'.olhcr  as  she  caugh.t  u;)  the  liltle  twins,  who 
went  by  the  names  of  Dot  and  Daisy,  and  hugged  them  to 
her  heart. 

"  Very  good,  IZlsie.     And  now  what  letters  have  you?" 

'•  I  have  searccly  lool:ed  at  them,  but  I  will  now.  0,  aunt 
AYells !  Here  is— I  do  believe  this  is  Marion's  handwriting. 
At  hist  she  has  written  again.  My  sister  is  alive  after  all! 
0  I  thank  God  !  " 

Marion  had  not  written  to  her  sister  for  years.  Since  the 
receipt  of  Elsie's  letter,  which  had  so  wrung  her  lieart, 
coming  just  when  her  happiness  had  received  its  first  crush- 
ing blow,  she  had  wished  to  keep  her  in  ignorance  of  her 
misery  and  humiliation.  Ghc  had  nothing  but  sorrow  to 
write,  and  she  could  not  bear  to  write  it.  Thoughts  of  her 
cistcr  and  longing  to  hear  from  her  had,  however,  after  a 
lime,  almost  persuaded  her  to  write,  but  the  dreaded  ordeal 
was  put  ofT  from  time  to  time  or  forgotten  in  her  family 
troubles  and  cares.  Go  the  years  had  passed,  and  Elsie 
feared  Marion  was  dead.  She  did  not  cease  to  write  to 
Marion  for  a  time,  but  receiving  no  answer,  at  last  gave  up 
in  despair  of  ever  hearing  from  her  again.  Elsie,  or  Mrs. 
Bernard,  whom  she  had  now  become,  hurriedly  opened  tho 
letter  and  read  aloud  : 

'•  11\-  Ov;::  Dzxr.  Sisrzr. : — Can  you  forgive  the  long  silence 
that  I  have  liept  these  years  towards  you  ?  Your  letter  con- 
gratulating me  upon  my  husband's  faithfulness,  and  tho 
neecL'Ssness  of  your  fears  for  me,  came  when  I  was  plunged 
in  the  deepest  of  darlmcss  by  what  you  tlien — and  I  always 
— DU')po3ed  impossible,  and  I  have  since  had  not  much  but 
corrov/  to  wri'.c  of  and  could  not  bear  that  you  and  aunt 
V/ells  L--:o"ld  hnov/  of  my  trouble  and  humiliation.  And 
novr  that  I  have  taken  up  this  task,  dear  sister,  do  not,  I 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  181 

bepf,  blame  nic  too  nnich  for  the  selfishness  that  kept  me 
silent  v.'hen  it  only  pained  me  to  speak  and  prompts  me 
now  to  write  to  you  when  I  want  your  help.  I  must  tell 
you  all  that  has  passed  in  my  life  since  I  last  wrote  you." 

Then  followed  a  narrative  of  the  events  already  known  to 
the  reader,  written  in  a  way  to  shield  her  husband  from 
l)lame  as  much  as  possible.  Toward  the  close  was  the  fol- 
lowing appeal  to  her  sister: 

"  Elsie,  judge  by  the  maternal  love  that  doubtless  exists  in 
your  own  heart  by  tins  time  what  I  must  feel  at  the  thought 
of  my  Ma3'on  growing  up  amid  such  surroundings,  and  with 
a  prospect  of  such  a  life  before  her  as  mine  has  been.  I 
know  your  deep  love  for  me  has  not  died,  dear  sister,  and 
will  it  prompt  you  to  help  me  save  my  little  girl  from  such 
sorrow  as  I  have  known  ?  I  have  reared  her  so  far  with  the 
prospect  continually  before  me  of  parting  with  her  when  she 
is  grown  to  womanhood,  with  the  determination,  cost  what 
it  may,  of  sending  her  forth  into  the  Gentile  world  at  last. 
You  are  the  only  one  to  whom  I  have  confided  my  plan.  I 
would  not  dare  let  any  person  here  know  of  my  determination. 
Mayon  herself  does  not  dream  that  my  assiduity  in  teach- 
ing and  training  her  is  due  partly  to  my  wish  to  pr.'pare  her 
fur  a  new  and  untried  life.  She  is  the  pride  of  my  life,  the 
joy  of  my  heart,  and  my  home  will  he  desolate  when  she 
leaves  it;  nevertheless  I  shall  be  glad.  You  have  repeatedly 
written  deploring  our  separation,  Elsie,  and  wishing  I  might 
come  back  to  you  and  aunt  Wells.  Although  I  cannot 
come,  may  I  send  my  child  to  you  ?  She  will  need  a  shelter, 
a  friend  and  i)rotector.  ^Vill  you  receive  and  love  her  as  I 
know  you  would  me?  Inasmuch  as  you  do  this  kindness 
unto  her  you  do  it  unto  me.  I  think  she  need  not  be  de- 
pendent on  you  long  for  support,  for  I  am  trying  to  rear  her 
with  strength  of  body  and  njind  to  make  her  own  way  in 
the  world  as  you  and  I  did.     Her  father  has  means  to  de- 


1C2  ELDER   NOHTIIFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

frr.y  nil  licr  expense?,  but  I  am  not  sure  that  I  can  appro- 
l^riatc  one  dollar  to  support  lier  in  the  Gentile  world, 
although  he  ^vould  deny  lier  nothing  for  her  lia]'>piness  did 
it  not  conflict  with  his  ideas  of  duty.  I  tremble  when  I 
tlnnk  of  the  storm  that  I  sliall  raise  in  his  bosom  by  this 
long  premeditated  act  of  treason  to  him.  I  grieve  that  I 
must  do  him  this  wrong,  but  there  is  no  help  for  it.  A 
worse  result  might  come  from  an  abandonment  of  my  pur- 
pose than  all  my  husband's  anger  or  grief.  And  he  has  his 
heart's  desire  in  our  son's  belief  in  the  religion,  for  I  grieve 
to  say  Forest  is  growing  up  an  earnest  Mormon.  Now,  I 
trust  to  your  love,  kindness,  and  generosit}",  not  to  deny  me. 
I  know  you  will  open  j^our  heart  and  home  to  my  child.  I 
do  not  know  your  husband's  circumstances,  but  suppose 
them  to  be  such  that  he  will  not  feel  the  burden,  and  I  trust 
the  love  he  may  have  for  little  ones  of  his  own  may  prompt 
his  heart  towards  kindness  and  pity  for  mine.  I  remember 
dear  aunt  Wells  with  affection,  and  suppose  she  is  with  3'ou 
now.  Ask  her  if  she  will  in  the  future  bestow  the  love  and 
care  upon  my  child  that  she  offered  me.  Tell  her  I  have 
life-long  regrets  that  I  did  not  heed  her  warning,  and  at 
least  make  an  effort  to  save  myself  from  the  fate  she  too 
truly  predicted  would  be  mine.  And  now,  dear  sister,  do 
not  pity  me  or  blame  my  husband  too  much,  for  with  the 
exception  of  a  few  months  he  has  been  as  true  and  affec- 
tionate towards  me  through  all  my  trouble  as  he  was  when 
you  knew  him  in  my  bridal  days.  It  is  not  he  that  has 
caused  so  much  wretchedness  to  enter  into  my  life,  but  the 
doctrines  of  INIormonism  through  his  belief  in  it.  He  is  a 
victim  and  a  slave  to  false  teaching  and  fanaticism,  and  I 
have  faith  that  the  time  will  come  when  he  will  throw  off 
his  shackles  and  stand  forth  free  from  the  delusions  that  in- 
fluence him  now.  Then  he  will  forgive  his  wife's  deceit  in 
this  matter,  and  we  will  live  in  the  Gentile  world  again. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    MORMON   ALTAR.  183 

Dear  Elsie,  I  believe  I  shall  again  be  with  you  before  I  die. 
Now,  may  I  look  forward  with  a  definite  hope  of  a  home  for 
Mayon  with  you  when  the  few  remaining  years  that  I  may 
still  keep  her  are  passed  ?  May  I  have  the  consolation  of 
knowing  that  when  she  leaves  me  she  will  go  to  one  who 
will  be  like  a  mother  to  her  ?  If  you  say  '  yes,'  as  I  feel  sure 
you  will,  the  thought  of  our  coming  separation  will  lose  half 
its  bitterness." 

There  was  not  much  more  in  the  letter,  and  as  Mrs.  Ber- 
nard folded  it  she  exclaimed  : 

"  Poor,  dear  Marion  !  0,  that  she  might  come  too  !  How 
gladly  will  we  receive  her  child.  Do  you  not  say  so,  aunt 
Wells?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  with  all  my  heart,  but  you  have  Walter 
to  consult." 

'•I  know  well  what  he  will  say,  aunt.     He  will  say — " 

A  voice  behind  her  interrupted  her  and  finished  the  sen- 
tence. 

"  Extend  to  the  child  the  warmest  welcome,  and  give  her 
the  happiest  life  that  human  efforts  can  secure  her." 

"  My  noble  Walter !  I  knew  you  would  say  that.  But 
where  have  you  been  to  hear  it  all?  " 

"  Just  behind  my  wife's  chair.  As  you  did  not  observe 
my  entrance,  I  raised  my  finger  as  a  warning  to  aunt  and 
the  children  to  be  quiet,  and  thus  I  have  heard  the  whole  of 
your  poor  sister's  story.  How  a  man,  made  in  the  image  of 
God,  and  endowed  with  the  natural  gifts  and  graces  that 
man  evidently  possesses,  can  become  such  a  slave  to  super- 
stition, stoop  to  such  wickedness  in  the  name  of  religion,  is 
beyond  my  comprehension." 

"  We  will  write  directly  to  Marion,"  said  aunt  Wells,  "and 
I  will  ask  the  privilege  of  adopting  Mayon  as  my  special 
charge  and  giving  her  every  advantage  in  the  way  of  educa- 
tion that  she  may  need.*' 


184  ELDER   KOnXIIFIELD's    HOME;   OR, 

"  Would  you  rob  us  entirely  of  the  pleasure  of  providing 
for  her?"  asked  AValtcr  Bernard. 

"You  have  four  little  ones  of  your  own,  and  I  should 
esteem  it  »a  privilege  to  give  to  this  little  Marion  what  I  ex- 
pected to  give  her  mother." 

"  Be  it  so,  then,  aunt,"  said  her  nephew,  and  a  message, 
long  and  loving,  was  despatched  to  a  waiting  one  in  Utah, 
which  filled  her  heart  with  thanksgivings. 

As  Mayon  grew  older  she  did  not  need  to  be  told  of  tho 
saddening  effects  of  polygamy  on  the  Utah  wives.  She  real- 
ized what  was  the  cause  of  her  mother's  i)ast  insanity  and 
depressed  spirits,  and  had  heard  from  her  lips  the  story  of 
Nell's  mother  without,  however,  being  told  of  the  indiffer- 
ence and  neglect  that  her  father  exercised  towards  her  own 
mother.  She  could  not  tell  her  daughter  this  part  of  her 
sad  experience  for  fear  she  would  turn  against  her  father, 
for  whom  her  affection  w^as  never  very  strong.  As  IMayoii 
realized  the  difference  between  Mormonism  and  Gentileism 
she  became  more  and  more  dissatisfied  and  regretful  that 
her  life  was  cast  in  with  that  people.  She  knew  occasion- 
ally of  some  Mormon  apostatizing,  and  never  without  a  wish 
that  it  miglit  have  been  her  father.  Every  item  of  informa- 
tion with  regard  to  Gentile  life  she  eagerly  devoured,  and 
lier  mind  was  constantly  exercised  with  a  desire  to  live  in 
the  Gentile  world.  This  was  as  her  mother  wished.  But 
the  thought  had  not  entered  the  girl's  mind  that  she  mi^ht 
go  out  into  the  world,  imless  a  change  came  over  her  father, 
and  thus  change  their  prospects  as  a  family.  For  this 
change  Mayon  hoped.  Too  much  of  a  child  she  yet  was  to 
look  forward  with  apprehensions  to  her  own  malr'monial 
prospects,  and  if  she  thought  of  them  at  all,  it  was  witli  a 
purpose  never  to  marry,  but  always  to  remain  with  her 
mother.    But  as  she  observed  and  realized  more  of  what  was 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  185 

passing  around  Iicr  she  bccnmc  more  thou^^litful  on  the  sub- 
ject. A  conversation  Avith  her  brother  and  sister  tended  to 
awaken  her  fears  somewhat  for  her  own  future.  She  and 
Nell  were  sitting  alone  one  day,  busily  sewing,  when  Forest 
entered.  lie  had  now  become  almost  a  man,  a  very  attrac- 
tive young  person,  and  a  great  assistant — thanks  to  his 
mother's  instructions  in  mathematics— to  his  father  in  busi- 
ness. 

"  Well,  girls,"  said  he,  "have  you  heard  the  latest  news?" 

*'  What  news,  Forest?  "  the  girls  asked  in  a  breath. 

"Alice  Clark  is  to  be  married  to-morrow  to  John  Andross." 

"  Not  Sarah  Andross'  father !  "  exclaimed  Nell. 

"  The  same,"  said  Forest. 

"Forest,  you  do  not  mean  it!  Alice  Clark  is  not  old 
enough.  She  is  scarcely  two  years  older  than  vre  are,"  said 
May  on. 

"'Can't  help  it.     It's  a  fact."' 

"  It  is  a  shame  for  that  young  girl  to  marry  a  man  old 
enough  to  be  her  father.  Indeed  his  daughter  Sarah  is 
older  than  Alice.  Alice  to  become  a  fourth  wife  !  I  know 
it  was  not  her  wish.  Did  the  elders  counsel  her  till  they 
made  her  consent,  or  did  her  father  bring  it  about?  " 

"A  little  of  both,  I  guess." 

"  I  know  it  could  not  be  Alice's  wish,  and  I  believe  she 
had  no  more  thought  of  marrying  so  young  than  Nell  and  I 
have." 

"Well,  they  said  she  cried  and  made  some  fuss,  but,  like 
a  good  girl,  concluded  to  be  obedient." 

"  Poor  Alice  !  "  siiid  Mayon. 

"Poor  Alice,  indeed,  jNIayon ! "  said  Nell.  "I  don't  see 
why  you  should  make  such  a  fuss  over  the  affair.  You 
know  that  she  will  not  be  nearly  as  poor  when  she  is  John 
Andross'  wife  as  she  is  now.  Her  fjither  is  very  poor,  and 
can  hardly  support  his  family,  and  Mr.  Andross  has  plenty 


186  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME  ;   OR, 

of  money;  aiid  as  his  other  wives  arc  all  quite  oldish,  Alice 
will  get  ever3'thing  she  wants.  I  have  no  doubt  he  will 
make  a  great  pet  of  her." 

"  Well  said,  sister  Nell,"  said  Forest.  "  Besides,  are  you 
not  aware  that  it  will  be  much  more  to  her  advancement 
and  honor  in  the  Celestial  kingdom  to  have  married  an 
elderly  man  than  a  young  man  ?  '  Better  trust  to  an  old 
man's  head  than  a  young  man's  heart,'  they  say." 

"  Better  trust  neither,  if  that  head  or  heart  belong  to  a 
Mormon,"  said  Mayon,  spiritedly.  "  Nell  says  Alice  will 
be  her  husband's  pet.  So  she  may  till  he  wishes  for 
another  pet,  then  he  will  break  her  heart  if  she  loves 
him,  as  even  our  father  has  almost  broken  mamma's 
heart." 

"  Your  mother  has  nothing  to  complain  of,"  said  Nell,  who 
felt  this  thrust  on  her  mother's  account,  whose  story  she  had 
heard  from  her  own  relatives  in  childhood.  "  She  selfishly 
kept  our  father  almost  entirely  to  herself.  If  I  do  not 
speak  of  my  poor  mamma,  you  certainly  need  not  speak 
of  yours." 

"  Come,  come,  children,"  said  their  brother  with  a  fatherly 
air,  "don't  quarrel.  Why  can't  you  live  in  peace?  I'll 
wager  my  new  hat,  Nell,  that  Mayon  will  put  her  trust  both 
in  the  head  and  heart  of  some  good  Mormon  before  she  is 
three  years  older." 

" Never!  "  exclaimed  Mayon,  with  flashing  eyes. 

"Calm  yourself,  my  little  volcano,"  said  Forest;  "you 
certainly  would  frighten  any  lover  away  with  such  a  temper 
as  that." 

"  I  tell  you,  I  never  wull  be  a  Mormon's  wife.  I  never 
shall  marry.  I  think  all  the  women  here  are  miserable,  and 
unless  papa  apostatizes,  and  we  go  into  the  Gentile  world,  I 
shall  never  marry." 

"  Girls  and  women  here  do  not  have  the  privilege  of  doing 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  187 

as  the}^  please  in  everything,  whatever  they  may  do  in  the 
Gentile  world  you  are  so  fond  of.  Mayon,  mamma  is  spoil- 
ing: you  for  Mormon  life,  and  you  are  a  disgrace  to  your 
religion." 

"  It  is  not  my  religion.  I  do  not  believe  in  Mormonism. 
I  hate  it  and  all  its  doctrines.  God  never  blesses  such  a  fLiith 
as  this." 

"  But,  according  to  the  Bible,  he  did  bless  it  in  the  persons 
of  Abraham,  Jacob,  etc.  Mayon,  look  about  you  and  see 
how  many  girls  have  arrived  at  the  age  of  twenty  without 
marrying." 

Mayon  could  scarcely  think  of  one,  and  was  silent. 

"  If  you  are  so  blind  as  not  to  see  that  all  girls  marry  here, 
and  that  counsel  and  commands  of  elders  and  parents  are  to 
be  obeyed,  others  are  not  so  blind." 

^'  Do  you  mean  to  intimate  that  I  shall  be  forced  into 
marriage,  either  by  the  elders  or  by  my  own  father?  " 

"  I  mean  to  say  that  I  believe  he  will  think  it  his  duty  to 
do  what  will  be  for  your  highest  good.  And  though  he,  of 
course,  would  never  exactly  compel  you  to  marry,  yet  he 
will  expect  to  be  obeyed  in  tlie  matter.  But,  Mayon,  do  not 
take  it  to  heart  so.  You  are  too  young  now  to  think  much 
about  such  things,  and  I  did  wrong  to  trouble  you  with  the 
doctrines.  I  forgot  that  it  was  a  forbidden  subject  between 
us.  I  do  Avish,  though,  that  you  and  mother  could  agree 
with  the  rest  of  us  on  these  points.  *A  house  divided  against 
itself  cannot  stand,'  you  know,  the  proverb  says.  Now  let 
us  sign  a  treaty  of  peace,  and  all  go  out  for  a  walk." 

"  No,  Forest,"  said  Mayon,  sadly.  "  You  and  Nell  may  go, 
but  I  want  to  talk  with  mamma." 

"Then,  good-by,  little  girl.  Never  mind  what  I  have 
said." 

But  Mayon  was  excited  now,  and  no  effort  of  her  brother 
could  calm  her.    She  sought  her  mother  and  said : 


1S3  ELDER   NORTIIFIELD's   HOME  ;   OR, 

"  Mamma,  docs  any  vv-oman  escape  living  in  polygam}-? 
Must  every  girl  licrc  marry  sooner  or  later?'' 

''Almost  every  one  docs  marry,  my  child." 

"Then,  must  my  fate  be  like  yours,  and  must  J  live  to  bo 
jis  wretched  as  most  of  the  women  here  appear  to  be?  Is 
there  no  way  of  escape  for  me  ?  " 

"Yes,  my  child,  there  is  a  way  for  you  to  escape  tlie  or- 
dinary Mormon  woman's  lot.  But  what  has  set  you  to 
thinking  of  this?" 

"  Forest  has  been  talking  to  me.  He  said  he  forgot  it  was 
a  forbidden  subject  between  us.  I  never  thought  much  about 
my  own  future  till  now;  and  now  he  has  told  me  of  Alice 
Clark  being  about  to  marry  an  elderly  man  with  three  wives, 
against  her  own  will,  and  I  feel  frightened.  A\'ill  father  al- 
w^ays  believe  as  he  does  now,  I  wonder,  and  remain  here? 
I  would  rather  die  than  become  the  wife  of  a  Mormon." 

"  You  never  shall  be  the  wife  of  a  Mormon,  my  dear.  Do 
not  fear." 

"  Can  you  prevent  it,  mamma,  if  the  authorities  should 
counsel  me,  as  they  did  poor  Alice,  and  if  my  father  should 
consider  it  his  duty  to  command  me  to  marry?  Can  you 
save  me?" 

"  Yes,  my  child  ;  all  your  life  I  have  looked  forward  to 
just  such  a  time  to  come  as  you  speak  of,  and  I  have  pro- 
vided you  a  way  of  escape." 

"Tell  me  what  you  mean." 

"  Mayon,  my  child,  you  say  you  had  rather  die  than  marry 
a  Mormon.  It  will  not  cost  you  your  life  to  save  yourself, 
but  it  will  cost  you  your  separation  from  a  mother  who 
almost  idolizes  you.  The  only  one  way  for  me  to  save  you 
from  a  life  like  mine  is  to  send  you  away  from  here.  Your 
aunt  Elsie  will  receive  you,  and  our  aunt  Wells  has  asked 
the  privilege  of  giving  you  an  education." 

*'  What,  mother ! "  exclaimed  Mayon  in  an  a^ony  of  cs- 


CACniFICED   ON    THE   J.IORMOx^    ALTAI!.  18D 

citcmcr.t.  "Do  you  mean  to  send  ine  awny  from  you? 
Must  I  leave  my  darling  niothcr?  Is  that  the  only  -way  to 
save  me  IVom  polygamy?" 

"  Yes,  my  poor  ehild.  It  has  saddened  my  life  for  years 
to  kno',v  that  in  the  future  was  in  store  for  me  and  for  you 
til  is  separation.  But  I  determined  it  from  the  very  hegin- 
uing  of  your  life,  and  I  thank  God  that  a  way  has  been 
opened  to  help  me  in  the  fulhlling  of  my  plan." 

"  Mother,  I  cannot  leave  you  1  Come  with  me !  0  mother, 
come  with  me! " 

''And  leave  your  father,  Mayon  ?  He  never  has  intcn- 
tion;dlv  wronged  me  in  any  manner.  He  has  never  brought 
trou'ole  uj^on  me  except  as  it  came  in  consequence  of  tho 
]>cr:brmancc  of  what  he  believed  his  duty.  It  is  not  your 
fitlicr  wlio  is  to  blame  for  all  my  miser}^  but  the  faith  that 
he  believes  in.  Do  not  cherish  one  hard  thouglit  towards 
him,  Mayon,  for  his  belief  has  saddened  his  life  also,  though 
he  still  clings  to  it.  Could  I  desert  him  now?  No,  M-uyon, 
it  is  wri-nging  him  enough  to  send  his  daughter  secretly 
away,  as  I  shall  have  to  do  some  day.  I  could  not  rob  him 
of  both  wife  and  child." 

"  AViirhe  need  you  more  than  I  shall?  He  will  still  have 
Edith.  Perhaps  they  would  love  each  other  if  you  left 
them." 

Mayon's  words  unconsciously  brought  a  pang  of  jealousy 
to  ]Marion's  heart — the  first  she  had  ever  felt  for  Edith — and 
they  had  an  effect  contrary  to  Mayon's  design. 

"No,  Mayon,  tb.ere  can  never  be  any  love  between  them. 
Edith  was  as  much  opposed  to  marriage  as  my  Mayon  is  ; 
but  she  was  forced  to  marry  some  one,  so  she  accented  your 
f^ither." 

"Poor  Edith!  I  shall  love  her  more  than  ever,  now  I 
know  that,"  said  Mayon.  "But,  motlier,  let  me  tell  my 
father  all  about  my  feelings,  and  plead  with  him  to  leave  tho 


190  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

Mormons  for  our  sakes,  and  he  can  still  be  a  Mormon,  al- 
though in  the  Gentile  world.  Then  we  shall  not  have  to  bo 
separated." 

"  You  must  never  mention  it  to  him,  m}^  child.  Believe 
that  I  know  best.  No  human  being  this  side  your  aunt 
Elsie's,  except  you,  knows  what  I  have  in  my  mind,  and  no 
one  must  know,  or  you  cannot  escape.  Those  who  aposta- 
tize and  flee  from  here  are  if  possible  overtaken  and  brought 
back,  and  there  have  been  times  when  to  be  openly  an 
apostate  was  to  peril  one's  life.  I  do  not  fear  danger  for 
you  if  our  plan  is  not  suspected,  for  I  hope  the  railway  will 
be  conipleted  long  before  the  time  of  your  journey." 

"Mother,  this  is  dreadful!  I  would  almost  rather  stay 
with  you,  and  risk  the  consequences.  Do  you  believe  my 
father  would  wish  me  to  marr}^  against  my  will?" 

"I  cannot  tell,  Mayon.  I  never  believed  he  would  ever 
take  another  wife,  but  he  has  taken  two.  There  is  no  sacri- 
fice he  would  not  make  for  his  religion,  so  I  do  not  feel  safe 
from  anything  while  he  believes  in  Mormonism." 

"  But,  mother,  if  I  leave  you,  you  may  come  to  me  some 
time." 

"Yes,  I  hope  to,  my  child.  I  hope  that  some  time  your 
father  may  be  undeceived,  and  we  may  again  be  united  in 
the  Gentile  world." 

"  0,  mother,  mother,  I  cannot  leave  you  !  " 

And  Mayon,  with  her  head  in  her  mother's  lap,  as  in  her 
more  childish  days,  gave  herself  up  to  the  most  passionate 
of  sobbing  and  weeping. 

]Marion,  after  a  time,  though  her  own  heart  ached  with 
sorrow  and  pity  for  her  child,  succeeded  in  calming  her,  and 
then  she  talked  to  her  long  and  confidentially  of  their  rela- 
tion to  Elsie  and  her  family.  She  told  her  much  of  Edith's 
sad  stor}^  beginning  with  Edith's  mother. 

What  Mayon  had  learned  that  day  changed  her.     She  be- 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    MORMON   ALTAR.  191 

came  more  thoughtful,  and  seemed  older  by  a  j^ear,  and  the 
prospect  of  a  coming  separation  bound  her  more  closely  to 
lier  mother,  and  the  latter  -was  pained  to  notice  that  not- 
withstanding her  efforts  to  lessen  in  no  degree  Mayon's  re- 
gard for  her  father,  yet  she  seemed  to  shrink  from  him  and 
avoid  his  society. 

This  did  not  altogether  escape  the  father's  observation, 
though  he  was  far  from  suspecting  the  cause.  But  Nell 
made  up  in  her  attentions  what  was  lacking  in  Mayon,  and 
she  installed  herself  the  favorite  with  him,  as  she  had  been 
in  her  infancy. 

Two  years  passed  without  any  great  change  in  the  house- 
hold. The  mother  had  gained  a  look  of  more  sadness,  which, 
however,  was  relieved  at  times  by  an  expression  of  happy 
content,  when  her  face  had  a  far-away  look,  that  Mayon 
could  readily  interpret.  She  knew  her  mother  was  seeing 
in  anticipation  her  child  safe  and  happy  with  the  friends  of 
her  own  youth,  and  was  herself  happy  in  the  thought. 

Edith  had  not  ceased  to  appear  in  the  light  of  a  minister- 
ing angel  to  the  different  members  of  the  family,  and  Mayon 
l^articularly  was  drawn  towards  her  more  strongly  than  ever, 
through  her  sympathy.  She  was  still  as  a  dear  sister  to 
Marion,  and  the  latter  was  surprised  at  times  as  she  realized 
that  she  was  living  in  love  and  peace  with  another  wife — 
something  she  had  thought  utterly  impossible.  But  she  also 
realized  that  this  harmonious  state  of  things  was  entirely 
due  to  the  peculiar  attitude  Edith  held  towards  herself  and 
husband.  She  blessed  Edith,  and  felt  that  there  could  be 
no  nobler  conduct  than  hers ;  at  the  same  time  she  pitied 
her  for  the  blight  that  had  fallen  on  her  so  young,  and 
robbed  her  of  all  life's  natural  joys.  She  endeavored  in 
every  possible  way  to  make  up  for  this  loss,  and  repay  her 
for  the  months  of  weary  watching  and  care  which  she  had 
received  from  her. 


102  ELDEr.  xonTiiriELD's  noME;  c:?, 

So  Eaith  t^t.s  not  without  many  sources  of  comfort,  !\Ia- 
yon's  society  proving:  not  the  least,  as  slie  was  gradually  bc- 
cominc;  more  womanly  and  companionable.  Nell  bad  not 
outgrown  her  childish  shortcomings,  but  had  become  more 
expert  in  hiding  them,  till  her  father  had  come  to  believe 
that  she  was  as  sweet  in  disposition  as  Mayon,  and  certainly 
more  winning.  Mayon  was  never  winning  to  him,  and  it 
was  not  lis  fault  that  he  did  not  love  her  as  much  as  he  did 
Nell,  for  slie  avoided  him  almost  as  entirely  as  Edith  did. 
But  when  his  whole  family  was  assembled  and  visitors  were 
present,  he  could  look  with  pride  upon  Mayon,  as  he  could 
not  upon  Xell,  fo:  it  was  Miyon  who  entertained  them  with 
music,  and  ]\Iayon  who  could  converse  most  intelligently,  if 
occasion  required.  Elder  Northfield  wished  Nell  might  add 
to  her  winsotneness  the  culture  and  intelligence  Mayon  pos- 
sessed, and  that  Mayon  would  give  him  the  love  and  coiifi- 
dence  his  other  daughter  bestowed  upon  him. 

Forest  had  inherited  his  father's  e\:)quence  in  public 
speaking,  and  was  about  to  be  ordained  an  elder,  and  sent 
to  the  small  villages  and  towns  in  the  Territory  as  local  mis- 
sionary. 

Elder  Northfield  was  still  prospering  in  business,  and  ap- 
parently his  family  was  a  hap})y  one.  Forest  and  Nell,  how- 
ever, were  the  only  really  happy  ones.  Polygamy  had  clouded 
the  happiness  of  the  others,  even  the  husband  and  father, 
for  when  his  dear  ones  had  suffered  he  had  suffered  too. 
But  his  conscience  was  clear,  and  he  had  much  pride  in  his 
children,  especially  in  his  son. 

From  time  to  time  emigrant  parlies  from  all  parts  of  the 
Union  and  from  across  the  ocean  arrived  in  the  city.  Among 
them  there  were  many  young  girls  who  had  left  father  and 
mother,  brother  aiul  sister,  for  their  religion's  s  dee — wives 
and  mothers  who  forsook  even  their  husbands  and  little  ones 


SACRIFICED    ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  193 

to  gather  to  Zion.  There  were  men  who  counted  their  reli- 
gion more  dear  than  wives  and  children  and  left  them  all 
beliind.  There  were  parts  of  families  and  whole  families, 
from  the  gray-headed  man  to  the  child  too  young  to  lisp  its 
mother's  name.  For  this  was  a  religion  that  bade  men  sever 
the  strongest  ties  of  nature  and  outrage  the  purest  of  domestic 
affections. 

Strenuous  efforts  had  of  late  been  made  to  gather  in  con- 
verts from  all  parts  of  the  world,  and  especially  from  the 
United  States.  Elders  and  missionaries  had  been  sent  out 
in  all  directions.  The  most  winning,  attractive  and  persua- 
sive men  were  selected  for  these  missions ;  also  those  most 
talented  and  intelligent.  They  were  now  reaping  the  fruit 
of  their  labors.  Although  but  few  were  the  converts  each 
elder  secured,  yet  their  aggregate  was  a  most  goodly  number. 
Enlightened  New  England  furnished  a  small  band,  for  talent, 
perseverance  and  persuasiveness  will  win  their  way  any- 
where, even  though  they  can  work  only  on  the  credulity,  ex- 
citability and  emotional  sensibilities  of  their  victims. 

Among  the  band  of  New  England  emigrants  which  ar- 
rived in  Salt  Lake  City  about  this  time  was  a  young  girl 
named  Flora  Winchester.  It  came  about  that  in  the  pro- 
viding of  temporary  homes  for  the  newly-arrived  converts 
Elder  Northfield  agreed  to  receive  one  into  his  family,  and 
accordingly  this  one  was  sent  to  him.  His  family  were,  of 
course,  prepared  to  receive  an  emigrant  into  their  home,  but 
they  w^ere  not  prepared  for  the  sweetness  and  intelligence 
that  came  to  them  in  the  person  of  Flora.  She  was  an  at- 
tractive, educated  girl,  but  she  had  an  air  of  sadness  and 
homesickness,  although  firm  in  her  faith  in  the  new  religion. 
She  was  so  quiet,  so  sober  and  undemonstrative,  that  Nell 
voted  her  a  bore,  and  made  little  attempt  to  make  a  com- 
panion of  her,  but  Mayon  took  her  to  her  own  heart  and 
the  two  girls  became  firm  friends.  Mayon  pitied  her  for  her 
13 


194  ELDER    NORTHFIELd's    HOME;   OR, 

apparent  loneliness,  and  was  interested  in  her  because  she 
came  as  a  representative  of  that  -world  which  she  was  some 
time  to  enter.  She  kept  Flora  talking  by  the  hour  of  the 
Gentile  people  and  their  institutions,  and  felt  that  she  had 
thus  gleaned  much  worldly  wisdom.  But  of  Flora's  personal 
friends  and  circumstances  she  was  very  reticent.  Mayon 
often  wondered  why  she  would  not  speak  of  her  home,  her 
family  and  friends,  but  she  would  not  ask  about  them,  for 
Flora  evidently  did  not  wish  to  speak  of  them. 

Mayon  was  not  the  only  friend  Flora  made  among  the 
young  people  of  the  house.  Forest  began  to  pay  her  many 
little  kind  attentions  in  the  hope  of  cheering  and  lifting  the 
veil  of  sadness  that  seemed  to  hang  over  her.  She  received 
any  kindnesses  from  them  in  a  pretty,  grateful  way,  that  won 
their  hearts,  but  she  nevertheless  seemed  very  unhapp}^ 
Mayon  and  her  mother  had  many  a  confidential  talk  con- 
cerning the  new-comer,  and  they  were  sad  to  think  that  such 
a  promising  young  girl  should  be  deluded  into  believing  in 
such  a  religion,  and  that  she  had  been  influenced  in  all 
probability  to  leave  home  and  friends  for  her  faith.  They 
longed  to  try  to  undeceive  her  and  persuade  her  to  return  to 
her  friends.  But  they  dared  not  say  much  to  her  against 
the  religion  for  fear  of  the  elders,  who  kept  a  strict  watch 
over  their  emigrant  converts  till  they  were  firmly  established 
in  Zion.  One  day,  as  Flora  returned  from  a  ride  with  Forest, 
who  had  taken  her  to  see  the  country,  she  rushed  into 
Mayon's  room,  which  she  shared  with  her,  and  without  re- 
moving her  wrappings  flung  herself  into  a  chair  and  burst 
into  tears.  They  were  the  first  Mayon  had  seen  her  shed, 
and  now  very  much  touched,  she  placed  her  arm  lovingly 
about  Flora  and  said : 

"  Dear  Flora,  what  is  your  trouble  ?  Why  are  you  so  sad? 
Do  not  tell  me  unless  you  wish,  but  I  would  so  like  to  com- 
fort you  if  I  might." 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  105 

*'I  want  to  see  my  mother.  I  w^.nt  mv  fnthor  to  look 
landly  on  me  once  more.  1  do  miss  Jessie  and  the  boys  so 
much.  I  am  homesick  here,  Mayon,  in  spite  of  all  your 
kindness,  and  now  what  your  brother  has  said  to  me  makes 
me  feel  that  I  have  no  right  to  stay  here  longer." 

"What  has  he  said,  Flora?" 

"  He  says — he  says — he  asked  me  to  marry  him.  I  did 
not  think  of  such  a  thing,  and  do  not  love  him,  though  he 
has  been  ver}^  kind  to  me,  and  you  all  have,  and  I  feel  very 
grateful  for  it  all ;  but  I  could  not  give  him  the  answer  he 
wished.     How  could  I  marry  a  man  I  do  not  love  ?  " 

Poor  girl !  She  had  j'et  to  learn  that  Mormon  wom.en 
were  expected  to  do  what  she  felt  she  could  not. 

"  No,  Flora,  you  could  not,  of  course,  and  I  am  sorry 
Forest  asked  you.  I  should  grieve  to  zee  you  become  my 
brother's  wife." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  he  is  a  Mormon,  and  you  know  mother  and  T, 
though  Mormons  by  name,  do  not  believe  in  the  religion ; 
and.  Flora,  I  wish  for  your  sake  you  never  had,  but  had  re- 
mained with  your  father  and  mother.  You  cannot  tell  how 
I  regret  that  I  was  not  born  in  the  Gentile  vv'orld — ho7/  I 
long  to  go  there  away  from  this  false  religion  and  these  de- 
luded and  deluding  people." 

"  Forest  has  told  me  that  5'ou  and  your  mother  are  not  i:i 
the  faith,  and  that  it  is  a  great  trial  to  his  father  and  to 
him." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  it  is.  Mother  was  once  a  firm  believer  in 
Mormonism  as  you  are,  but  when  she  learned  that  polygamy 
was  one  of  the  doctrines  it  destroyed  her  faith  in  the  whole, 
and  poor  mother  has  had  enough  sad  experience  to  destroy 
her  faith.  0,  Flora,  how  could  you  have  been  persuaded  to 
leave  your  home  and  join  this  Church  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it,  Mayon.     I  have  not  felt  like 


196  ELDER   NORTHFIELd's   HOME  ;   OR, 

speaking  of  my  family  before,  and  I  presume  you  have  won- 
dered at  it;  but  now  I  will  tell  you  how  it  all  came  about, 
as  near  as  I  can,  though  I  hardly  know  myself.  Elder 
Korthwmd  Elder  Burnside  came  to  our  village  and  ap- 
pointed a  meeting.  No  one  knew  they  were  Mormons,  and 
a  good  many  people  gathered  to  hear  them  preach,  among 
them  my  brother  Carlos  and  myself.  They  w-ere  very  elo- 
quent and  adhered  at  first  to  doctrines  not  particularly 
strange  or  ne-w,  and  they  had  held  several  meetings  before  the 
people  discovered  that  they  were  Mormons.  When  they  did 
make  the  discovery,  however,  almost  all  left  the  meetings  ; 
but  I  had  become  very  much  interested,  and  felt  that  I  had 
perhaps,  like  others,  been  prejudiced  against  the  Mormons, 
and  I  resolved  to  continue  to  attend  and  learn  for  myself 
whether  their  doctrine  was  from  God  or  not.  My  brother 
would  not  take  me  after  that,  and  I  was  forced  to  go  alone, 
which  I  did,  till  my  father  forbid  my  attending  the  meet- 
ings again.  I  disobeyed  him  once  or  twice,  however,  and 
then  it  seems  that  the  youngest  elder — Elder  Burnside — 
learned  that  I  had  been  forbidden  to  attend  the  meetings, 
and  he  called  upon  me  in  my  father's  absence.  He  asked 
me  to  meet  him  at  his  boarding-place  and  he  would  explain 
to  me  all  I  wished  to  know.  I  met  him  several  times,  and 
at  last  became  a  believer  in  the  faith." 

"  Flora,  how  could  you  believe  in  polygamy  ?  " 
"  I  did  not  fully,  but  he  assured  me  that  it  would  all  ap- 
pear right  to  me  if  I  held  on  to  my  faith.  I  felt  that  at  last 
I  had  been  given  a  clean  heart,  and  entered  God's  Church. 
I  felt  quite  happy.  Then  both  elders  urged  me  to  leave  my 
home  and  emigrate  w4th  a  party  they  were  forming  to  Zion. 
I  could  not  make  up  my  mind  to  that  for  a  great  while,  for 
I  dearl}'  loved  my  friends ;  but  when  I  realized  that  '  Whoso 
loveth  father  or  mother,  brother  or  sister,  more  than  Me,  is 
not  worthy  of  Me,'  I  decided  to  give  up  everything  for  my 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  197 

religion,  find  I  informed  Elder  Bnrnside  that  I  would  be 
ready  to  start  with  the  company.  My  family  did  not  know 
what  had  been  going  on,  I  had  been  so  secret  about  it,  and 
it  came  like  a  thunderbolt  on  them  when  I  told  them  that  I 
was  going  to  leave  them  in  a  few  days.  My  mother  wept 
and  plead  with  me  ;  my  brothers  and  sister  said  I  should  not 
leave  them,  and  my  father  kindly  tried  to  reason  and  per- 
suade me,  till  he  found  how  useless  it  was,  for  I  had  made 
up  my  mind  to  brave  all  this  storm,  which  I  knesv  would 
come.  At  last  my  father  gave  way  to  anger,  and  he  told  me 
if  I  left  his  house  as  a  Mormon  convert  I  should  never  enter 
it  again.  He  said  he  would  never  own  for  a  daughter  one 
who  could  so  demean  herself  as  to  become  a  Mormon.  This 
angered  me,  and  notwithstanding  my  mother's  entreaties,  I 
immediately  took  with  me  a  few  articles  of  clothing  and 
went  to  the  house  of  another  convert  and  there  remained  till 
we  left  for  Utah,  which  was  in  two  or  three  days.  The  next 
day  my  mother  came  to  see  me,  and  I  never  shall  forget  our 
agony  as  we  bid  each  other  farewell.  She  tried  with  all  her 
might  to  persuade  me  to  remain,  but  I  would  not.  She  then 
said  :  '  Remember,  Flora,  that  notwithstanding  your  father's 
anger,  your  mother  will  always  love  you,  and  if  you  ever 
wish  to  come  back,  as  I  fear  3'ou  will,  mother's  heart  and 
home  will  always  be  open  to  you.'  She  had  come  against 
the  commands  of  my  father,  who  had  forbidden  any  member 
of  his  family  coming  to  me,  so  I  did  not  see  my  brothers 
and  sister  again.  I  felt  that  I  had  given  up  all  for  the  Lord, 
and  expected  to  be  very  happy,  but  somehow  I  am  not.  I 
long  for  my  home  and  friends,  and  sometimes  wonder  if  I 
have  not  been  foolishly  deceived,  and  if  you  and  your 
mother  are  not  right.'', 

"  Flora,  believe  that  we  are  right,  and  go  back  to  your 
mother.  She  will  be  made  so  happy,  and  your  fatlier  will 
forgive  you  and  take  you  back  when  he  sees  how  penitent 
you  are." 


198  rLDER  nortiifield's  home  ;  or, 

"Icanr.ot  do  that.  ]\Iavon,  you  do  not  know  tlic  scorn 
and  derision  that  would  be  heaped  upon  me  were  I  to  re- 
turn. And  my  pride  will  not  let  me  go  back  and  ])lead 
with  my  father  after  he  has  said  I  never  should  enter  his 
liouse  ap^ain.  If  he  kept  his  word,  what  would  become  of 
me?  Mother  and  Jessie  and  the  boys  I  know  would  wel- 
come me  back,  but  even  with  them  I  could  hardly  hold  up 
my  head,  and  much  less  could  I  acknowledi^e  to  my  father 
my  error,  or  bear  the  scorn  of  my  former  friends.  It  was 
considered  by  them  all  a  great  disgrace  to  l)ecome  a  Mor- 
mon. Asa  penitent  Mormon  among  them  I  never  could 
live.     No,  Mayon,  I  cannot  go  back  now." 

Then  Mayon  determined,  even  at  the  risk  of  increasing 
Flora's  trouble,  to  inform  her  of  the  sadness  of  woman's  lot 
there,  and  to  impress  U[)on  her  mind  a  horror  of  polygamy, 
hoj>ing  that  her  fear  might  actuate  her  to  return  to  tliC  Gen- 
tile world.  She  longed  to  tell  her  of  her  intentions  vvith  re- 
gard to  her  own  future  and  i)ersuade  Flora  to  go  with  h.er  to 
iSew  England,  but  this  she  dared  not  do  as  long  as  Flora 
was  in  any  sense  a  Mormon.  Flora  listened  with  a  failing 
lieart  to  Mayon's  description  of  the  lives  of  th.e  women  of 
Utah,  but  she  was  not  i)ersuaded  to  abandon  her  purpose  of 
remaining,  now  tliat  s])e  had  entered  the  Church  and  arrived 
in  the  city.  She  said  it  was  of  no  use ;  she  could  not  go 
back  now  ;  it  was  impossible,  and  she  must  make  the  best 
of  it.  Mayon  was  very  sad  as  she  confided  to  her  mother 
her  attempt  to  right  the  wrong  done  to  Flora  and  its  utter 
failure.  Flora  became  more  gloon^y  than  before,  and  Forest 
avoided  her,  not  from  any  ill  feeling,  but  his  heart  was  sore 
with  disappointment,  and  her  society  now  was  only  painful 
to  him. 

But  Flora's  face  at  length  I'rightci^.ed  in  a  manner  unsus- 
pected by  her  friends.  Elder  Burnside,  who  did  not  arrive 
with  the  company,  but  remained  by  the  way  to  preach,  had 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  199 

now  returned  to  the  city,  and  he  called  upon  Flora.  As 
]Ma3'on  and  her  mother  saw  the  girl's  face  liglit  np,  and  a 
flush  of  joy  come  to  her  cheek  on  greeting  the  elder,  they 
read  the  secret  of  her  conversation  and  attributed  her  un- 
willingness to  leave  Mormonism  partly  to  her  unwillingness 
to  leave  its  young  champion.  Mrs.  Northfield  knew  too 
well  the  influence  of  the  Mormon  elder  over  the  one  upon 
whom  he  bestows  his  love,  and  she  felt  that  Flora's  case  was 
hopeless.  Elder  Burnside's  visits  were  often  repeated,  and 
the  whole  family  were  now  sensible  that  a  change  had  come 
over  her.  She  was  no  longer  the  quiet,  sad  girl  they  had 
known,  but  was  cheerful  and  even  gay  at  times.  Elder 
Northfield  was,  however,  the  only  one  in  the  house  who  re- 
joiced at  this  change,  knowing,  as  they  did,  its  cause. 
Marion,  Edith,  and  May  on  felt  that  it  was  but  a  sealing  of 
her  doom  as  a  INIormon  woman,  and  Forest  could  only  look 
upon  Elder  Burnside  as  a  rival  in  his  efforts  to  win  Flora 
for  his  wife.  It  galled  him  to  see  that  this  man's  affection 
made  her  happy,  while  his  advances  had  only  seemed  to  in- 
crease her  sadness.  Nell  became  more  sociably  inclined  now 
towards  Flora,  but  the  latter  would  only  confide  in  Mayon, 
whom  she  loved  devotedly,  although  she  would  not  be  in- 
fluenced by  her  in  the  matter  of  the  greatest  importance. 

"  Mayon,"  she  said  one  day,  "  I  told  you  my  story,  but  I 
did  not  tell  you  quite  the  whole.  I  could  not  then.  But 
now  all  is  decided,  I  will  tell  you.  I  am  going  to  marry 
Elder  Burnside." 

"  0,  Flora !  I  have  known  it  ever  since  he  came,  but  I 
wisli,  0  so  strongly,  that  it  was  not  so.  I  fear  you  will 
in  time  be  miserable.  Are  you  not  afraid  to  trust  your 
happiness  in  the  hands  of  a  man  who  believes  in  polyg- 
amy?" 

"  No,  for  I  think  he  will  do  nothing  that  is  not  right,  and 
I  shall  try   and  trust   God   for   the  rest.     I  cannot,  how- 


200  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's    HOME)    OR, 

ever,  think  much  about  the  future,  I  am  so  happy  in  the 
present." 

Not  many  days  passed  before  Flora  became  the  wife  of 
Elder  Burnside — a  beautiful,  blushing,  happy  bride.  But, 
ah!  how  changed  she  was  ere  many  years  rolled  by ! 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  201 


CHAPTER   XII. 

OINCE  the  completion  of  the  railway,  Edith,  all  unknown 
^  to  any  one,  had  harbored  thoughts  of  leaving  the  Mor- 
mon world  and  attempting  to  seek  a  support  for  herself 
among  the  Gentiles.  She  felt  now  as  some  other  women  felt 
—that  escape  was  not  so  utterly  impossible  for  them  as  it 
had  been  hitherto. 

At  last  she  resolved  to  speak  to  Marion  about  the  matter, 
knowing  she  would  not  betray  her.  Marion  was  very  much 
surprised,  but  she  felt  that  the  hand  of  Providence  was 
guiding  all  things  for  the  best.  She  then  told  her  of  her  de- 
termination with  regard  to  Mayon— of  the  home  that  was 
ready  and  waiting  for  her  child,  and  doubtless  welcome  to 
her  also,  as  it  would  have  been  to  her  mother.  She  had  cor- 
responded regularly,  though  not  frequently,  with  Elsie,  and 
the  kind  offer  of  aunt  Wells  was  open  for  her  acceptance  at 
any  time. 

"  Now,  Edith,"  said  she,  ''  though  I  shall  sadly  miss  you, 
and  shall  feel  doubly  bereft  if  deprived  of  you  and  Mayon 
at  once,  yet  if  you  might  go  with  Mayon  as  her  protector 
on  her  long  journey— if  you  might  find  for  yourself  the 
happiness  you  deserve  in  the  Gentile  world— I  shall  be 
content." 

"  I  will  gladly  go  with  Mayon,  and  care  for  her  even  as 
her  mother  would.  I  do  hope  for  a  less  sad  life  than  I  have 
known  here,  but  I  never  expect  to  find  happiness.  My 
father   struck  a  death-blow  to  all  happiness  for  me  years 


202  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME  ;   CR, 

Tlicn  Marion  knew  tliat  tlic  wound  in  Edith's  heart  had 
never  healed.  No  word  had  been  spoken  in  all  these  years  ; 
but  though  Edith  could  be  silent,  she  could  not  forget. 

"  0,  the  cruelty  of  this  so-called  religion  ! "  said  ]\[arion, 
"  to  blast,  if  not  in  one  way  in  another,  the  happiness  of 
every  woman  coming  under  its  iniluence.  Why  does  God 
allow  his  creatures  to  work  such  wrong?  Why  will  not  th.e 
Government,  instead  of  making  now  and  then  a  weak  effort 
to  abolish  polygamy,  passing  laws  which  they  do  not  take 
means  to  enforce — why  does  it  not  make  a  mighty  effort 
to  free  us — slaves  that  we  are — as  it  did  to  free  the  poor 
negro  slave  from  his  bondage?" 

"  I  have  thought  of  that  and  have  felt  almost  like  doubt- 
ing God's  mercy  in  allowing  this  evil  to  continue,  and  when 
I  see  sweet  young  girls  like  Flora  V\'inchester,  not  growing 
up  in  it,  but  coming  into  it  from  enlightened  New  England, 
I  can  but  wonder  at  the  pow^r  for  evil  it  has  in  the  land. 
That  poor  child,  now  so  happy,  will  know,  as  all  others  do 
in  time,  the  wretchedness  of  a  woman's  life  here.  I  some- 
times pray  God  to  spare  her  if  it  be  possible." 

"  Poor  Flora  !  It  was  not  love  for  her  religion  alone  that 
brought  her  here.  She  has  too  much  sense  for  that,  but 
Elder  Burnsidc  won  her  heart,  as  well  as  her  faith  in  his 
teachings.  She  is  blind,  and  when  her  eyes  are  opened  it 
will  be  too  late." 

Now,  these  women  had  another  interest  in  common  to 
bind  their  hearts  more  closely.  They  resolved  that  when 
the  time  came  that  i\Ia3^on  must  fly  for  refuge  to  her  aunt's 
liome  Edith  should  go  also.  Edith's  heart  was  lifted  up 
with  hope  at  thought  of  freedom  from  a  polygamic  life,  and 
Marion,  though  realh"  regretting  the  loss  of  such  a  friend  as 
Edith,  felt  that  she  should  again  rejoice  in  being  the  only 
wife  of  her  husband.  Mayon  was  glad  to  know  that  when 
she  was  obliGjed  to  leave  her  mother  one  familiar  and  dear 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  203 

face  might  still  bo  l\y  licr  side  to  lighten  the  grief  of  the 
separation.  She  wns  TiOW  in  stature  almost  a  lA'omnn.  A 
close  companionsliip  with  her  mother  all  her  life,  nnd  a 
keen  realization  of  the  sorrows  that  surrounded  and  allected 
her,  had  made  her  very  womanly. 

Her  face  had  the  rcjiose  of  maturity,  and  her  manners  the 
grace  of  womanly  dignity.  Her  mother  realized  that  her 
efforts  to  fit  her  for  a  change  in  her  life  had  2)robably  been 
the  means  of  liastening  that  change.  For  a  young  lady  of 
Mayon's  attractions,  her  age,  and  her  position  in  life  to  re- 
main long  in  Salt  Lake  City  without  suitors  she  knew  was 
impossible.  So  she  regretted  that  May  on  had  arrived  at  the 
age  when  she  might  fear  other  eyes  would  covet  her  treas- 
ure— other  hands  seek  to  pluck  the  flower  she  had  so  ten- 
derly reared. 

May  on  seemed  fully  two  years  older  than  Nell,  who  wna 
but  a  ft'W  months  younger.  Nell  was  slight  in  form  and 
childish  in  the  extreme,  but  she  did  not  wish,  as  Mayon  did, 
to  be  regarded  as  a  child,  but  was  flattered  very  much  by 
attentions  from  older  people. 

"  Why,"  exclaimed  Mnyon  one  da}',  "  was  I  not  made 
smnll  instead  of  Nell  ?  She  fairly  longs  to  be  a  grown  lady 
and  to  be  considered  one,  while  I  envy  her  her  childisli  ap- 
pearance. She  puts  on  a  woman's  dress,  which  gives  her  the 
look  of  an  over-dressed  doll,  and  I  make  myself  ridiculous 
by  clinging  to  a  girl's  manner  of  dress,  while  I  am  several 
inches  taller  than  Nell.  But,  mother,  why  should  we  fear 
so  much  ?  Perhaps  no  one  will  ever  want  me  for  a  wife,  and 
then,  mother  dear,  I  can  stay  with  you  always." 

As  the  mother  lovingly  caressed  the  glossy  hair,  and  looked 
into  those  large  eyes  full  of  a  beautiful  intelligence,  noticed  the 
sweet  mouth  and  ros}"  cheeks  of  her  daughter,  slie  felt  that  her 
beauty  was  fatal  to  such  hopes.  That  alone  would  ensure 
her  bondage  to  Mormonism  if  she  was  not  saved  from  it. 


204  ELDER   NORTHFIELd's    HOME  ;    OR, 

But  neither  the  mother  nor  daughter  suspected  how  soon  the 
former's  fears  were  to  be  realized.  Forest  was  an  agreeable 
young  man,  fond  of  compan}',  and  some  of  his  young  friends 
visited  him  at  his  home  frequently,  spending  the  evening 
with  the  family  in  the  parlor.  Edith  always  excluded  her- 
self from  these  family  gatherings,  unless  Elder  Northfield  was 
absent,  except  by  special  request  that  she  would  be  present. 
But  no  other  member  was  missing,  and  Mayon  and  Nell 
were  valuable  assistants  to  Forest  in  the  entertaining  of  his 
friends.  Nell  was  attractive  for  her  liveliness,  Mayon  for 
her  music  and  intelligence.  There  was  one  young  man — a 
recently  made  partner  in  their  father's  business — who  came 
oftenest.  He  was  intelligent,  and  probably  a  better  man 
could  not  be  found  among  the  Mormons  than  he.  From 
spending  many  evenings  there  he  began  to  call  during  the 
day,  when  at  liberty  to  do  so  without  neglecting  his  business, 
and  as  Ma^^on  and  Nell  usually  entertained  him,  it  became 
evident  that  one  or  both  attracted  him  thither.  But  the 
mother  breathed  more  freely  when  she  observed  that  as 
Mayon  gradually  withdrew  herself  and  left  Nell  to  entertain 
their  caller  alone  he  came  no  less  frequently.  He  asked  for 
Mayon,  but  was  apparently  not  disappointed  in  the  least  at 
her  non-appearance,  and  his  visits,  and  even  walks  and 
drives  with  Nell,  appeared  to  be  very  enjoyable  to  them 
both.  Nell  was  delighted  with  her  admirer,  and  her  little 
head  and  heart  were  quite  full  of  thoughts  of  him.  With 
these  existing  circumstances,  what  wonder  that  Mrs.  North- 
held  received  with  consternation  the  announcement  from 
her  husband  that  Edward  Ellis  had  asked  him  for  the  hand 
of  his  daughter  Mayon  in  marriage. 

"  Our  Mayon  !  "  exclaimed  the  distressed  mother.  "  Why 
she  is  nothing  but  a  child.  How  can  j^ou  think  of  such  a 
thing?  " 

"  I  know  she  is  a  child  in  years,  but  she  is  very  womanly 


SACRIFICED    ON    THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  205 

in  her  ways,  and  as  this  will  be  a  fine  settlement  for  her,  and 
a  better  man  than  Ellis  cannot  be  found,  I  am  anxious  that 
she  shall  accept  this  offer  if  she  can  be  persuaded  into  it." 

"  But  we  supposed  Nell  was  the  one  he  was  seeking,  if 
either.  Both  are  too  young,  however,  to  think  of  matri- 
mony. Why  has  he  spent  so  much  time  with  Nell  if  he 
wished  for  Mayon  ?  " 

"  He  accepted  her  company  because  deprived  of  Mayon's, 
and  he  has  learned  a  great  deal  about  Mayon  from  Nell's 
prattle.  I  knew  he  was  not  trying  to  win  Nell,  but  he  has 
had  his  eye  on  Mayon  for  a  long  time." 

"  But  Mayon  has  no  idea  of  anything  of  the  kind,  and  I 
think  it  would  only  be  repugnant  to  her,  and  Nell  is  entirely 
carried  away  with  him,  and  not  without  some  reason.  I 
think  he  has  done  wrong  in  allowing  her  to  be  deceived  so. 
Why  cannot  a  change  be  made  and  Ellis  be  persuaded  in 
favor  of  Nell  instead  of  Mayon  ?  " 

"  Because,  unfortunately,  Nell  is  not  the  one  he  wants. 
Why  could  I  not  have  married  Elsie  instead  of  Marion? 
Because  I  did  not  love  Elsie,  and  I  did  love  Marion." 

"  But,  Henry,  it  is  not  right  to  urge  the  acceptance  of  this 
offer  upon  Mayon  if  she  is  opposed  to  it.  If  it  was  for  Nell 
there  would  be  no  obstacle,  for  she  is  more  than  half  in  love 
with  Ellis  already." 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  crowd  or  hurry  matters.  If  Mayon 
wishes  the  marriage  postponed,  I  shall  not  object  to  a  year 
or  two  of  time  for  her,  but  I  am  determined  that  she  shall 
not  slight  this  offer,  notwithstanding  her  youth,  and  I  wish 
the  matter  to  be  settled  immediately.  I  have  almost  given 
Ellis  a  promise  of  Mayon,  and  he  will  take  it  very  hard  if  he 
is  disappointed,  so  I  do  not  wish  him  to  be  refused.  I  have 
left  her  affairs  almost  entirely  to  you,  Marion,  in  the  past, 
and  have  never  interfered  with  your  wishes  concerning  her, 
but  in  this  matter  I  feel  that  I  have  a  father's  right  and  a 


206  ELDER   NORTIIFIELDS   IIOMI!;   OR, 

iiitber's  duty  to  perform,  and  hope  tliat  you  v.'ill  use  your 
efforts  to  secure  my  wislies.  I  count  on  your  help  if  May  on 
proves  obstinate,  for  it  is  only  her  own  best  good  that  I  seek, 
and  althougli  she  may  at  first  feel  opposed,  no  doubt  she 
^vill  soon  listen  to  reason  and  offer  no  serious  objection." 

"  But  INIayon  is  not  so  ordinary  a  person  that  she  may  not 
have  plenty  of  good  offers  of  marriage  if  she  does  not  accept 
this." 

"  No ;  but  she  cannot  have  a  better  one,  and  'A  bird  in  the 
hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush.' " 

Mrs.  Northfield  could  say  no  more.  Her  heart  was  full. 
She  felt  that  in  this  matter  as  in  other  matters  that  affected 
her  vital  interests  "  duty  "  was  to  decide  against  her.  "  Duty," 
that  stern  tyrant  of  her  life,  was  to  wrest  from  her  possession 
her  dearest  treasure,  or  offer  it  up  a  sacrifice  on  the  altar  of 
Mormonism.  Her  husband  rose  to  leave  the  room,  saying: 
''  Now,  ^farion,  shall  I  speak  to  Mayon  about  this  or  will 
yoa?  I  hope  ere  long  to  see  her  the  wife  of  Edward  Ellis," 
and  turning  the  speaker  beheld  Mayon,  who  had  entered  the 
room  unnoticed  by  her  father  in  time  to  hear  his  last  re- 
mark. She  stood  riveted  to  the  spot  in  terror.  Her  large 
eyes  dilated  till  they  were  immense,  and  all  the  roses  were 
gone  from  her  cheek.  Her  father  was  frightened  at  her  ap- 
pearance and  hastened  towards  her,  but  she  avoided  liis  ap- 
proach and  glided  to  her  mother's  side.  She  kneeled  by  her 
in  agony,  and  without  a  word  buried  her  face  in  her  out- 
spread liands.  The  father  felt  that  his  presence  was  unwel- 
come then  and  he  considerately  left  them  alone. 

'•  0,  mother,  I  did  not  think  it  would  come  so  soon ! " 
*    "  Hush,  my  darling  !     Be  very  guarded  in  what  you  say. 
Perhaps  I  can  save  you  yet  a  little. longer." 

"  Do,  mother,  if  you  can.     How  can  I  leave  you  now?  " 

Mrs.  Northfield  told  her  husband  that  Mayon  wished  to 
put  off  her  decision  for  a  while  and  in  the  meantime  re- 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  207 

quested  that  slie  might  not  see  Ellis.  Elder  Northfield  said 
he  should  expect  Mayon  to  be  able  to  decide  in  a  few  weeks 
at  most,  and  lliat  he  trusted  she  would  decide  wisely.  And 
thus  ^layon's  days  of  life  with  her  mother  were  numbered. 
Nell  now  became  quite  forlorn  as  her  supposed  lover  de- 
serted her,  and  she  was  really  to  be  pitied.  But  when  she 
learned  that  Mayon  was  considering  the  question  of  marriage 
with  him  her  young  heart  was  filled  with  jealous  indigna- 
tion. 

"Mayon,"  she  said  as  she  stamped  her  little  foot,  "you 
were  all  the  time  playing  a  game  to  win.  You  knew  he 
liked  you  and  meant  to  increase  his  desire  for  his  prey  by 
keeping  it  just  out  of  his  reach.  I  now  see  what  your  modest 
retirement  in  my  favor  meant.  It  meant  treachery  to  me. 
No  doubt  you  laughed  in  your  sleeve  at  thought  of  the  dupe 
he  was  making  of  me.  But  you  are  welcome  to  him.  Such 
a  deceitful  man  as  he  is  cannot  be  much  of  a  prize,  and  I  am 
glad  that  it  is  you  who  have  won  him  instead  of  me." 

"I  have  not  won  Edward  Ellis.  I  do  not  wish  to  marry 
him.  If  I  do  it  will  only  be  in  obedience  to  my  father.  If 
you  can  win  him  for  yourself,  Nell,  that  I  may  go  free  in 
peace,  you  will  do  me  the  greatest  favor  you  ever  did.  I  do 
not  wish  to  marry  for  a  long  time." 

Nell  was  rather  surprised,  but  faltered  out: 

"  0,  it  is  too  late  now.  It  does  very  well  to  say  so  when 
all  possibility  of  such  a  thing  is  past." 

"I  did  not  know  or  suspect  it  till  father  told  us  of  his 
proj)osal  for  me.  I  supposed  he  was  given  his  heart's  desire 
in  having  your  society.  Now,  Nell,  do  not  torment  yourself 
or  me  any  more,  but  make  yourself  attractive  and  win  the 
prize." 

"  I  don't  think  I  could  now,  and  don't  know  as  I  care  to 
try,"  said  Nell,  petulantly. 

Edward  Ellis  did  not  feel  like  trusting  fully  to  Mayon's 


208  ELDER    NORTIIFIELd's    HOME  ;    OR, 

decision,  uninfluenced  by  lii[,dier  authorities,  altliough  her 
father  was  quite  determined  that  he  should  have  her.  But 
he  went  to  Brigliani  Young  and  stated  the  case,  and  Brig- 
ham,  as  ever,  was  ready  to  help  on  the  good  work. 

He  had  known  sonietliing  of  the  Gentile  element  in  Elder 
Korthfield's  family,  and  was  of  the  opinion  that  the  sooner 
an  unbelieving  daughter  was  settled  with  a  Mormon  husband, 
the  better. 

He  therefore  interested  himself  in  Ellis'  case,  and  prom- 
ised to  call  upon  the  girl.  He  did  so,  and  as  Mayon  went  to 
the  door  to  answer  his  summons,  she  experienced,  to  a  de- 
gree, the  same  horror  that  her  father's  words  had  caused. 
He  noticed  her  fear,  and  in  a  pleasant,  fatherly  manner  strove 
to  talk  with  her  in  such  a  way  as  to  put  her  at  her  ease,  but 
that  was  impossible,  and  soon  she  politely  attempted  to  ex- 
cuse herself,  saying  she  would  call  the  other  ladies  of  the 
house.  But  he  stopped  her  and  said  she  was  the  one  he  had 
called  to  see.  Then  he  referred  to  her  matrimonial  prospects, 
and  congratulated  her  upon  the  honor  which  had  been  con- 
ferred upon  her,  trying  to  draw  her  into  conversation  on  the 
subject. 

But  Mayon  could  scarcely  speak,  so  great  was  her  agita- 
tion. He  gave  her  what  was  considered  much  good  advice, 
and  she  could  only  falter  out  that  she  thought  she  was  too 
young,  and  wished  to  wait  till  she  was  older.  He  then  asked 
her  how  old  she  was,  and  though  Mayon  felt  that  she  could 
not  stoop  to  answer  him,  yet  she  was  too  frightened  to  refuse. 

"  0,  nonsense,"  said  he,  "  you  are  quite  old  enough ;  be- 
sides, you  look  much  older  than  you  are.  Now  I  hope  you 
will  be  a  good  girl,  and  make  no  trouble  about  this  affair.  I 
counsel  you,  for  your  own  best  good  in  this  world  and  in  the 
world  to  come,  to  accept  Edward  Ellis  as  your  husband,  and 
do  not  delay  your  decision,  my  girl." 

And  with  an  attempt  at  a  friendly  conversation,  the  great 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  209 

head  of  the  Church  left  the  subject,  having  done  this  duty 
in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  (!) 

It  was  not  till  now  that  Mrs.  Northfield  became  aware  of 
the  ordeal  her  child  was  undergoing  alone,  or  she  would 
have  come  to  her  relief.  Now  she  entered,  and  as  Brigham 
Young  requested  to  see  the  whole  family  then  present,  Edith 
and  Nell  were  called  and  presented  to  the  President.  He 
tried  to  make  himself  very  agreeable,  and  manifested  some 
curiosity  with  regard  to  Edith,  as  it  had  been  rumored  that 
she  was  ill-treated  by  her  husband  and  his  first  wife.  He 
impudently  asked  her,  in  the  presence  of  them  all,  if  such 
was  the  case,  and  though  her  eyes  shone  with  anger  at  his 
insult,  she  felt  obliged  to  answer  him. 

She  told  him  that  no  human  being  could  be  treated  with 
more  kindness  than  she  received.  She  feared  he  would  sug- 
gest to  Elder  Northfield  that  he  take  her  out  more,  and  that 
she  could  not  bear. 

He  then  playfully  pinched  Nell's  cheeks  and  pulled  her 
hair,  saying : 

"  This  little  girl  will  before  many  years  be  contemplating 
matrimony  as  her  older  sister  now  is." 

"  I  am  as  old  as  May  on  now,  into  a  few  months,"  said 
Nell,  feeling  hurt  at  being  called  a  little  girl. 

" Indeed  ! " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Northfield,  "  Mayon  is  but  little  older, 
though  she  does  not  look  like  it." 

"  Well,  well ;  Nell,  we  hope  you  will  soon  have  the  good 
fortune  to  receive  as  good  an  offer  as  your  sister  has." 

"  0,  I  do  not  care  for  that,"  said  she. 

"  What  do  you  care  for  ?  Riding  ?  If  so,  put  on  your  hat 
and  shawl,  and  take  a  turn  with  me." 

Nell  instantly  obeyed,  feeling  very  much  elated  with  the 
honor  of  riding  with  Brigham  Young.     It  almost  compen- 
sated for  losing  the  attentions  of  Edward  Ellis. 
14 


210 

"  That  man's  insults  are  unbearable ! "  exclaimed  Edith. 
''  I  hope  I  may  never  meet  him  again.  Poor  Ma3'on,  to  havo 
to  endure  a  tite-a-ttte  with  him." 

"  I  thought  I  should  faint,"  said  Mayon.  "  0,  do  you  think 
I  shall  ever  have  to  be  tormented  with  his  presence  again  ! 
I  believe  I  could  even  part  with  you  sooner,  mother,  easier 
than  I  could  bear  to  meet  him  again." 

"You  shall  not  meet  him  again,  my  child;  I  will  guard 
against  it." 

The  next  evening  her  father  sought  Mayon,  and  talked  a 
long  time  to  her  in  a  persuasive  w^ay,  referring  to  the  pros- 
pect of  her  marriage.  His  words,  though  kindly  spoken, 
gave  her  a  secret  assurance  that  all  opposition  on  her  part 
would  be  vain  ;  though  she  had  suggested  to  her  mother  the 
thought  that  if  she  utterly  refused,  her  father  "would  not 
force  her  into  the  marriage. 

She  could  hardly  control  herself  till  she  was  at  liberty  to 
seek  her  mother.  She  w^as  almost  frantic  with  excitement, 
and  almost  beside  herself  with  the  constant  torture  she  was 
being  subjected  to. 

Her  mother  feared  that  in  the  excitement  of  her  terror  she 
would  unguardedly  betray  her  secret,  and  she  decided  with 
Edith  that  the  sooner  she  w'as  sent  away  the  better.  She 
feared  for  the  condition  of  Mayon's  mind  if  her  torture  w\as 
continued,  and  decided  that  a  final  separation  from  herself 
would  not  injure  her  as  this  constant  harassing  on  the  sub- 
ject of  marriage.  Mayon  and  she  both  knew  that  that  must 
come,  and  perhaps  the  sooner  the  better  for  them  both,  as 
matters  now  stood. 

^layon  consented,  like  a  poor,  frightened  child,  to  any 
means  for  her  safety,  and  seeing  her  half-wild  condition, 
Mrs.  Northfield  thanked  God  that  even  througli  her  ov/n 
past  trouble  He  had  raised  up  a  friend  for  her  child  in  this 
her  hour  of  need ;  for  Mayon  was  incapable  of  caring  for 


GACRIFICED   ON   THE    MOr.:\ION   ALTAT7.  211 

herself,  so  p:reat  vras  lier  mental  exeitement ;  but  her  motlicr 
knew  she  could  trust  to  Edith  s  clear  head  and  loving  heart 
to  sliield  her  child  ironi  all  harm  on  the  journey. 

Tliis  had  come  so  suddeid}-,  that  neither  of  t!ie  three  could 
fully  realize  what  had  liapi)ened  and  what  was  before  them, 
and  there  was  little  time  to  indulge  in  mourning,  f(jr  there 
was  much  that  the  loving  mother  must  do  for  her  child,  and 
many  preparations  Edith  wished  to  make  for  her  own  en- 
trance into  a  strange  land.  A  letter  was  dispatel;ed  to 
Elsie,  to  inform  her  of  the  arrival  she  must  immediately 
cxjiect. 

Suspicion  must  not  he  roused,  and  so  the  preparations 
for  the  departure  had  to  be  made  very  secretly.  Once  let 
Nell  become  aware  of  what  was  going  on,  and  Mayon  was 
lost,  for  Nell  was  perfectly  in  sympathy  with  her  lather  and 
brotlier. 

At  last  came  the  morning  of  the  day  previous  to  the  one 
on  which  the  fugitives  were  to  take  their  llight.  With  ]\Irs. 
Northfield  they  were  assembled  in  Edith's  room,  sadly  talk- 
ing of  their  coming  separation,  and  speaking  of  the  journey 
they  were  to  undertake  on  the  morrow. 

''  Hark  !  "  said  Mayon,  in  a  whis])er,  "  I  think  I  hear  foot- 
Gteps." 

All  listened,  hut  in  vain,  and  her  mother  said: 

"It  was  only  one  of  your  nervous  fears,  Mayon.  No  ona 
can  be  near  us  here." 

Eor  Editli's  room  was  in  a  retired  part  of  the  house,  where 
it  was  seldom  any  one  went  exce])t  her. 

They  resumed  their  conversation,  and  again  Mayon's 
strained  cjir  caught  a  sound. 

"  Mother,  there  is  some  one  listening  at  the  doer.  It  is 
Nell's  li-ht  footstep  that  I  hear.  0,  what  shall  we  do  if  Nell 
lias  heard  what  v.x*  have  been  saying  !  " 

They  watched  the  street  from  Edith's  window,  vrhich  com- 


212  ELDER   NORTIIFIELD's   HOME  ;   OR, 

manded  a  view  of  it,  and  soon  Nell's  figure  was  seen  speeding 
in  the  direction  of  her  father's  business. 

Their  hearts  sank  and  their  hopes  failed  them,  but  the 
mother's  love  quickened  her  faculties,  and  she  exclaimed : 

"Never  fear,  my  dears;  I  will  save  you  in  spite  of  them 
all !  I  will,  God  helping  me,  defy  every  Mormon  in  the  land 
but  my  darling  shall  escape  !  " 

Her  impassioned  words  revived  the  courage  of  Edith  and 
Mayon,  and  she  continued: 

"  You  must  not  wait  till  to-morrow ;  it  may  be  too  late. 
In  three  hours  a  train  leaves  here,  and  you  must  go  on  that 
train.  Get  yourselves  ready  instantly  for  a  start  somewhere 
away  from  the  house.  How  can  we  tell  but  that  in  a  few 
moments  your  father  will  be  here,  brought  by  the  news  Nell 
has  given  him,  to  put  an  end  to  it  all.  Probably  he  will 
wait  till  his  return  at  night,  but  I  dare  not  risk  a  moment's 
delay.  Mayon,  go  to  your  room  and  dress  quickly  for  your 
journey,  and  leave  me  to  think  what  to  do.  0,  God,  help 
me  !     God  help  me  now  !  " 

Edith  proceeded  quickly  to  dress,  while  Mrs.  Northfield 
went  on  as  though  thinking  aloud : 

"No,  there  is  no  hiding  place  I  dare  try;  no  one  I  dare 
trust  to  ask  for  help.  What  shall  I  do?  O,  where  can  I 
hide  them?  Edith,  it  will  never  do  for  you  and  Mayon  to 
take  the  train  here ;  it  will  be  watched.  Henry  or  Forest 
will  be  there,  if  Nell  has  turned  traitor  and  told  tliem,  as  we 
think.  You  must  walk  to  the  next  station,  for  I  dare  not 
procure  a  carriage.  You  can  get  there  in  three  hours.  Mayon 
is  strong  and  a  good  walker,  and  can  do  it  comfortably;  but 
you,  Edith,  can  you  walk  so  far  in  three  hours?  " 

"Yes,  fori  shall  be  walking  towards  freedom  from  this 
bondage.  I  shall  be  helping  my  dear  friend,  who  has  been 
BO  kind  to  me  and  my  mother  years  ago.  Those  thoughts 
will  give  me  strength." 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    M0R:M0N    ALTAR.  213 

"  You  have  not  a  moment  to  lose,  and  I  will  now  go  and 
hasten  Mayon." 

As  Mayon  proceeded  to  dress,  the  hot  tears  filled  her  eyes, 
almost  blinding  her,  and  everything  she  touched  was  wet 
with  tears.  She  was  sadly  in  need  of  help.  They  made  all 
the  haste  that  desperation  could  give  to  their  movements, 
and  then  the  mother  left  Mayon,  to  procure  the  money  that 
was  to  pay  the  expenses  of  their  journey.  This  sum  was  one 
which  she  had  been  hoarding  for  years  for  this  very  purpose, 
and  which  she  had  accumulated,  little  by  little,  by  an  eco- 
nomical saving  from  her  own  expenses,  unknown  and  un- 
noticed by  her  husband.  She  had  within  a  few  days  mate- 
rially added  to  it,  by  the  sale  of  her  watch  and  other  jewelry, 
so  that  now  there  was  enough,  and  more  than  enough,  to 
meet  the  wants  of  the  refugees  till  other  provision  was  made 
for  them.  She  now  hastened  to  Edith,  and  placed  in  her 
hands  the  well-filled  purse.  They  could  take  no  clothing 
with  them,  and  must  give  themselves  the  appearance  of  being 
out  for  a  walk  merely.  Mrs.  Northfield  was  to  send  their 
trunks  after  them. 

"And  Edith,"  said  she,  "  you  must  travel  as  fast  as  possi- 
ble. Do  not  stop  over  one  train  anywhere  on  the  journey, 
for  you  may  be  pursued.  I  think  Henry  will  not  go  so  far 
as  that,  but  I  do  not  know  what  his  anger  may  lead  him  to. 
I  am  certain  that  he  will  be  very  angry  for  once,  and  not 
without  cause.     I  dread  his  wrath." 

"  My  poor  sister,"  said  Edith,  "  how  will  you  bear  it  all, 
added  to  your  sorrow  of  losing  Mayon  ?  0,  it  seems  cruel 
to  leave  you  to  endure  the  blame  alone  !  " 

"  I  am  so  used  to  trouble,  Edith,  that  I  can  bear  this, 
though  my  husband's  anger  and  my  separation  from  my 
daughter  will  be  new  troubles ;  but  do  not  fear  for  me.  I 
shall  be  content  when  I  hear  that  you  and  Mayon  are  safe 
in  New  York." 


214  ELDER   NORTIIFIELd's   HOME  ;    OR, 

^layon  looked  about  licr  room  iliat  was  so  dear  to  her, 
where  were  many  little  reminders  of  Flora's  ingenuity  in 
the  execution  of  Gentile  ideas  of  little  ornaments,  and  then 
she  thought  of  Flora's  grief  and  homesickness  at  lier  separa- 
tion from  lier  mother,  and  felt  tiiat  she  too  was  leaving  her 
native  land  and  all  that  was  dear  to  her.  Why  could  not  she 
have  changed  places  with  Flora  and  each  remained  in  the 
home  so  dear  to  her?  She  longed  to  see  her  friend  once 
more  before  she  was  forever  separated  from  her,  but  her 
mother  recalled  her  thoughts  to  her  own  affairs,  and  with 
her  she  descended  to  the  parlor,  where  Edith  stood  waiting, 
all  equipped  for  a  start. 

Words  cannot  paint,  pen  cannot  portray-  the  agonies  of 
that  last  farewell,  as  mother  and  daughter  were  locked  in 
one  final  embrace. 

"Mother,"  said  Mayon,  as  the  former  at  last  released 
Mayon's  hold  on  her,  "  I  cannot  leave  you.  I  would  rather 
stay  and  suffer  the  consequences,  mother;  let  me  stay  with 
you !  " 

Mrs.  Nortlifield  felt  fliint,  but  she  motioned  them  to  go. 
They  turned  towards  the  door,  and  looking  back,  Evlith  saw 
the  agonized  mother's  face  grow  white  as  marble.  She  dared 
not  leave  her  thus,  but  started  back  to  her.  IMayon  then 
darted  to  her  mother  again,  and  with  the  n:iost  passionate 
grief  covered  her  face  with  tears  and  kisses. 

"  Now,  ni}^  dear  ones,  go,"  said  she  faintly,  and  they 
obeyed. 

After  they  had  gone,  many  minutes  passed  unconsciously 
to  Mrs.  Northfield.  But  nature  restored  her  from  her  faint- 
ing fi',  and  soon  Nell  entered  with  a  (conscious,  guilty  look. 

"  Where  is  Mayon  ?  "  she  asked. 

*'  Gone  with  Edith  for  a  walk,"  was  the  answer. 

"  When  will  they  come  back?"  asked  Nell  suspiciously. 

"  I  cannot  tell.     They  have  only  just  gone  out." 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MOR^ION   ALTAR.  215 

Again  hatred  came  into  her  heart  for  this  girl,  who  she 
knew  was  seeking  to  defeat  all  her  hopes  and  plans.  She 
hated  her  and  feared  her.  She  now  continued  to  keep  Nell 
occupied,  and  with  her,  fearing  that  through  her  a  discovery 
would  he  made  of  Edith's  and  Mayon's  premature  flight.  As 
the  liour  passed,  however,  when  she  knew  the  train  would 
leave  the  adjoining  station,  whither  they  had  gone,  she 
trusted  they  were  safely  on  board  and  speeding  away  from 
all  that  had  made  her  life  so  sad.  She  now,  with  a  sigh  of 
relief,  relaxed  her  efforts  to  absorb  Nell's  attention  and 
breathed  more  freely.  She  now  had  leisure  to  think  of  her 
own  situation  and  to  dread  her  husband's  return  at  night. 
But  Forest  came  without  him. 

"  Where  is  your  father.  Forest?  "  she  asked. 

"  He  had  some  unexpected  business  to  attend  to  and  took 
the  twelve  o'clock  train,  saying  he  would  be  back  early  to- 
morrow morning." 

That  mother's  heart  then  sank  within  her.  He  would  be 
upon  the  train  with  his  wife  and  daughter,  and  would  see 
them  as  they  stepped  into  the  car  at  that  little  unfrequented 
station.  He  would  bring  them  back  and  their  lives  would 
be  ruined  after  all  her  hopes,  plans  and  efforts.  During  the 
evening,  while  locked  in  her  room,  she  heard  Forest  and 
Nell  calling  to  her,  and  she  knew  they  had  missed  Mayon 
and  Edith  and  were  seeking  them.  But  she  could  not  answer 
them.  That  night  was  a  sleepless  one  to  Mrs.  Northfield. 
At  the  coming  of  dawn  she  expected  to  see  her  husband  re- 
turning with  the  dear  ones  she  had  sent  away ;  but  dawn 
came,  and  with  it  her  husband,  but  he  came  alone.  Now 
her  heart  gave  a  great  bound  for  joy.  He  had  no  affection- 
ate greeting  for  her  this  morning,  but  looked  very  stern. 
She  trembled  as  she  met  him. 

"  Marion,"  said  he,  "  please  call  Edith  and  Mayon.  I  wish 
to  see  them  this  morning  before  I  go  to  my  business." 


216  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;   OR. 

"  They  are  not  here,  Henry." 

"  Not  here !  What  do  you  mean  ?  You  have  not  accom- 
plished your  wicked  scheme  already,  have  you?  Where 
are  they  ?  " 

"  They  are  on  their  way  to  New  York,  Henry.  My  dear 
husband,  I  beg  you  will  forgive  me  for  doing  you  this  wrong, 
but  I  was  obliged  to  do  it." 

"  Obliged  to  do  it !  Marion,  do  not  try  to  excuse  your 
conduct  in  that  way  !  Why  have  you  sent  our  daughter 
away  from  me  in  this  way  ?  Was  she  not  mine  as  well  as 
yours  ?  What  right  had  you  to  rob  me  of  my  wife,  even 
though  I  do  not  care  for  her  ?  Marion,  I  tell  you  you  have 
gone  too  far !  " 

Her  husband's  eyes  now  glowed  with  anger,  and  Marion 
was  roused  to  resentment.  Her  fear  was  quite  gone.  Her 
trembling  ceased,  and  she  boldly  plead  her  cause. 

"  I  sent  May  on  away  to  save  her  from  a  wretched  life  like 
mine.  I  repeat,  I  was  obliged  to  do  it.  Could  I,  knowing 
the  curse,  the  misery,  the  anguish  that  would  surely  come 
upon  her  if  she  accepted  the  fate  you  have  prepared  for  her^ 
could  I  be  justified  in  making  no  effort  to  save  her  from  a 
life  that  would  be  worse  than  death?  Does  God  give  a 
mother  her  children  and  not  hold  her  responsible  for  what 
they  become  in  future  years  ?  If  you  saw  a  man  in  certain 
danger  of  death  and  reached  out  no  hand  to  save  him,  you 
would  be  guilty  of  murder.  If  I  see  my  child  approaching 
what  is  worse  than  death  and  calmly  and  unconcernedly 
allow  her  fate  to  overwhelm  her,  am  I  not  guilty  ?  That  is 
why  I  was  obliged  to  do  this.  My  Mayon  I  long  ago  re- 
solved should  never  be  offered  up  a  living  sacrifice,  as  I  have 
been,  to  the  shrine  of  Mormonism.  I  have  looked  for  this 
day  to  come  for  years ;  but  it  came  at  last  sooner  than  I  ex- 
pected. But  I  was  ready  for  it,  and  I  do  not  regret  what  I 
have  done.     I  only  regret  that  it  must  be  done,  and  that  I 


SACRIFICED    ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  217 

have  in  a  certain  sense  acted  the  part  of  a  traitor  to  you,  but 
better  that  than  a  lifetime  of  misery  for  Mayon." 

"  You  speak  of  a  union  with  Edward  ElUs  as  a  lifetime  of 
misery.     What  reason  can  you  give  for  tha^>  impression?  " 

"  Tlie  reason  that  every  woman  is  miserable  in  polygamy, 
and  this  man  would  in  time  enter  into  it,  no  doubt — every 
Mormon  does.  Henry,  even  though  I  have  had  a  husband 
kind  as  any  Mormon  husband  could  be  and  live  up  to  his  reli- 
gion, have  I  not  suffered  a  lifetime  of  misery  ?  Have  I  not 
been  robbed  of  my  reason,  and  almost  of  my  life,  by  the  ter- 
rible workings  of  Mormonism  ?  Tell  me,  Henry,  if  you  do 
not  believe  I  have  suffered  enough  to  make  me  fear  to  ex- 
pose my  beloved  daughter  to  trials  like  mine?  " 

"  Yes,  Marion,  I  admit  that  you  have  taken  your  life  very 
hard,  notwithstanding  that  I  have  tried  to  lighten  the  burden 
that  all  Mormon  women  must  bear ;  but  that  does  not  alter 
the  fact  that  you  have  acted  very  wrongly  in  sending  Mayon 
and  Edith  away.  Although  you  do  not  see  it  in  that  light, 
you  have  sent  them  out  of  God's  Church,  where  alone  can  be 
found  eternal  salvation  for  their  souls.  You  have  basely  de- 
ceived one  who  has  always  trusted  in  you,  and  never  will- 
ingly wronged  you.  Marion,  I  did  not  think  this  of  you. 
You  have  twice  in  your  life  determined  to  desert  me,  and 
now  you  have  caused  my  wife  and  daughter  to  do  me  that 
wrong.  And  yet,  Marion,  you  have  accused  me  of  not  loving 
you.  Have  I  ever  given  you  the  cause  for  such  an  accusa- 
tion that  you  have  given  me  ?  " 

Henry  Northfield  when  angry  could  give  utterance  to  the 
most  cruel  sayings,  and  in  a  calm  manner  that  made  every 
word  cut  the  deeper.  Marion  felt  the  pain  that  no  words  of 
his  had  ever  inflicted  before  on  her  already  aching  heart. 
But  for  Mayon's  sake  she  could  bear  them.  No  mere  words 
of  his  could  bring  her  back  again. 

"  Henry,"  she  said,  "  you  have  no  right  to  refer  to  my 


218  ELDER   NORTIIFIELDS   HOME;   OR, 

acti')ns  of  those  limes.  You  know  that  I  was  goaded  ahiiost 
to  madness  by  my  trouble,  or  I  never  should  have  thought 
of  leaving  you." 

"Well,  Marion,  what  is  done  is  done,  and  I  shall  not  at 
present  try  to  undo  your  work,  for  Ellis  would  not  now 
accept  a  wife  who  had  run  away  from  liim,  and  a  wife  and 
daughter  who  prove  what  Edith  and  Mayon  have  proved 
themselves  to  be  are  not  worth  pursuing.  Mayon  never 
seemed  to  love  me  much,  though  I  have  had  a  father's  affec- 
tion for  her,  and  novr  she  has  proved  that  she  has  no  regard 
for  me.  I  liave  not  deserved  this.  I  have  tried  to  be  a  kind 
father,  and  even  in  this  matter  have  acted  only  for  her  best 
good,  if  she  could  have  been  allowed  to  see  it  so." 

Thus  he  left  her  in  anger— something  that,  amid  all  her 
troubles,  had  never  occurred  before.  This  came  upon  her 
already  desolate  heart,  and  it  seemed  that  her  burden  was 
greater  than  she  could  bear.  Could  Mayon  have  looked  into 
her  mother's  heart,  and  read  the  woe  and  suffering  that  was 
borne  for  her  sake,  she  would  have  wished  to  return  and 
suffer  with  her,  rather  than  that  her  mother  should  suffer 
alone.  Years  had  passed  since  Mrs.  Northfield  had  been 
called  upon  to  bear  such  cleep  sorrow  as  now.  Her  husband 
continued  his  cold,  injured  manner,  and  Forest  and  Nell 
avoided  her  as  though  she  had  been  guilty  of  some  great 
crime. 

The  Sabbath  came,  and  as  Elder  Northfield  took  his  Sun- 
day garments  from  their  place,  a  little  piece  of  folded  paper 
met  his  eye,  as  it  protruded  from  one  of  his  pockets.  He 
mechanically  unfolded  it,  and  it  proved  to  be  a  letter  from 
his  daughter  Mayon.     It  was  as  follows : 

"  Dear  Father:  Please  do  not  think  I  do  not  love  you 
to  thus  flee  away  from  you.  I  see  that  you  are  determined 
I  shall  marry  Edward  Ellis,  even  against  my  wishes.     It 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    MORMON   ALTAR.  219 

seems  to  mo,  fatlicr,  tliat  I  would  ratlier  die  than  marry  a 
IMornion,  or  a  nian  I  do  not  love.  Polygamy,  even  with  a 
kind  husband  as  you  have  been,  has  made  my  mother's  life 
miserable,  and  can  3-0U  bhime  me  for  wishing  to  escape  such 
wretchedness  in  my  own  life  ?  You  cannot  realize  the  misery 
of  being  forced  into  a  marriage  tliat  is  repugnant  to  one's  feel- 
m%s.  I  know  you  would  not  wish  it  if  you  did.  I  know,  dear 
fatlier,  tliat  you  seek  what  you  think  is  for  my  good,  and, 
believe  me,  I  do  not  leave  you  without  regret.  But,  father, 
])ut  yourself  in  my  place.  Imagine  that  you  had  the  faith 
I  have,  instead  of  the  Mormon  belief.  Try  to  feel  as  I  do, 
that  what  you  are  seeking  for  me  would  be  a  wretched  fate, 
and  then  you  will  freely  forgive  me,  I  know,  for  trying  to 
gave  myself.  Please,  father,  think  lovingly  of  Mayon,  if  you 
can,  and  forgive  her.  But  0,  whatever  you  may  think  of 
me  and  feel  towards  me,  I  beg  of  you,  do  not  be  angry  with 
poor  mother.  Her  heart  is  ready  to  break  with  her  sorrow 
at  parting  with  me,  and  angry  words  from  you  would  bo 
cruel.  She  has  only  done  what  she  thought  was  her  duty; 
and  though  it  seems  a  wrong  to  you,  have  not  you  followed 
your  convictions  of  duty,  even  though  it  brought  greater 
sorrow  on  mother  than  this  act  of  hers  can  possibly  bring 
on  you?  You  were  pained  to  grieve  her,  and  she  is  very 
unhai)py  to  think  of  being  obliged  to  deceive  you,  and  send 
me  away  from  you.  But  mother  believed  you  did  not  will- 
ingly afflict  her  in  acting  as  your  conscience  dictated,  and 
she  forgave  you;  and  how  man}'  times  she  has  told  me,  lest 
I  feel  hard  towards  you,  'It  is  not  your  father,  ^layon,  who 
has  done  this,  but  his  religion  through  his  faith  in  it.' 
Cannot  you  forgive  as  mother  has,  and  believe  that  in 
wronging  you  she  only  followed  the  dictates  of  her  own 
conscience,  as  you  have  done,  and  should  »ot  be  blamed? 
When  you  thirdv  it  all  over,  I  am  sure  you  will  not  wound 
mother's  already  aching  heart  with  one  unkind  word,  but 


220 

will  pity  her  for  her  loneliness  when  I  am  gone,  and  will  try 
to  make  up  to  her  for  my  loss.  Do  not  blame  mother  for 
Edith's  flight.  They  tell  me  she  never  has  been  happy  in 
Mormonism  since  she  realized  its  misery,  when  a  little  girl, 
and  she  spoke  to  mother  about  leaving  before  she  knew  that 
I  was  some  time  to  go  away  from  here.  Mother  told  her 
then,  and  it  was  arranged  that  we  should  go  together.  Once 
more,  dear  father,  I  ask  you  to  be  forgiving  and  kind  towards 
mother  and—  "  Your  daughter,  "  Mayon." 

Nobly  had  Mayon  plead  for  her  mother  in  her  calmness, 
as  Mrs.  Northfield  in  her  excitement  could  not  plead  for 
herself.  Kind  deeds  were  not  all  on  the  mother's  side,  and 
Mayon  had  now  performed  one  office  of  love  which  went  far 
towards  repaying  the  great  debt  she  owed. 

Elder  Northfield  read  this  letter,  and  his  eyes  were  opened 
to  the  cruelty  and  injustice  of  his  manner  to  his  wife. 
Mayon's  pleading  and  expressions  of  affection  touched  his 
heart,  and  he  sought  his  wife  and  turned  her  grief  to  joy  by 
begging  her  forgiveness  for  his  unkindness.  Although  he 
still  believed  she  had  acted  very  wrongly,  yet,  as  Mayon 
had  suggested,  she  had  forgiven  what  she  considered  wTong 
in  him,  and  he  should  be  no  less  magnanimous  now  tow^ards 
her.  Therefore  pleasant  relations  were  again  established 
between  them. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  221 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

HAD  Edith  and  Mayon  succeeded  in  reaching  their  des- 
tination in  time  for  the  train,  they  would  have  un- 
doubtedly been  forced  to  accompany  the  husband  and  father 
back  into  Mormonism.  But  a  kind  and  merciful  Providence, 
often  working  in  mysterious  ways,  ordered  it  otherwise. 
They  had  proceeded  nearly  half  the  distance  when  Edith,  in 
her  fast  walking,  stepped  on  a  rolling  stone  and  fell,  sprain- 
ing her  ankle.  She  tried  to  hobble  on,  but  it  soon  became 
impossible  for  her  to  walk.  Here  was  a  new  trouble,  and  an 
insurmountable  one.  Edith  urged  Mayon  to  go  on  and  leave 
her,  for  there  was  no  time  to  be  lost;  and  if  she  could  not 
board  that  train,  it  might  be  too  late,  for  there  was  no  other 
till  the  next  day. 

"But  what  will  you  do,  Edith,  if  I  leave  you?" 

"  I  will  wait  here  by  the  roadside  till  some  farmer  comes 
along  to  take  pity  on  me,  and  take  me  either  to  the  station 
or  back  to  the  eity.  Then  I  will  follow  you  on  the  next 
train,  if  possible;  and  if  not,  it  will  not  matter  much  if  only 
you  are  safe.     Take  tlie  purse  and  hurry  on,  Mayon." 

"Never!  I  will  not  desert  3'ou  !  As  you  cannot  walk,  I 
will  stay  with  you." 

Mayon  had  regained  her  self-possession  now  that  she  felt 
slie  had  started  towards  liberty,  and  acted  as  the  leading 
one  of  the  two,  shice  Edith  was  almost  helpless  from  her 
pain. 

They  sat  down  to  rest  and  consider  the  situation.  They 
were  in  a  part  of  the  highway  enclosed  by  fields  and  forests, 


222  ET.DEU   NOnTIIFIELD's    HOME;   OR, 

and  not  a  house  or  human  being  was  to  be  seen  save  one 
little  hut  in  the  distance,     Mayon  spied  it  and  said: 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  we  will  do.  I  will  lielp  you  to  walk 
to  that  hut,  and  if  it  is  uninhabited,  as  I  hope,  we  will  se- 
crete ourselves  there  till  morning,  when  I  hope  you  will  be 
able  to  go  on.  If  not,  or  if  we  are  overtaken  before  morning, 
I  will  go  back  to  my  mother,  whom  I  almost  feel  that  I  am 
a  coward  to  leave — whom  I  had  almost  rather  not  leave, 
even  if  I  must  be  a  INIormon's  wife.  We  will  go  back,  and 
I  will  marry  Edward  Ellis  and  submit  to  my  fate,  ^^'hy 
should  I  seek  a  happier  life  tlian  my  mother  had  ?  Why 
should  I  deserve  it?" 

Mayon  concluded  to  go  first  and  examine  the  hut.  She 
came  back  and  reported  it  empty.  Then,  with  her  help, 
Edith  succeeded  in  walking  the  intervening  distance,  and 
there  they  hid  themselves  for  the  night.  The  weather  was 
not  warm,  and  they  suffered  some  from  cold,  though  more 
from  their  fears.  No  sleep  came  to  their  eyes ;  but  when 
morning  dawned  Edith  was  able  to  walk  with  difficulty  to 
the  station,  and  their  hearts  were  filled  with  thankfulness 
that  at  last  they  were  speeding  towards  the  Gentile  world. 
Later,  when  Edith  learned  how  they  had  been  delivered 
from  capture,  she  blessed  God  for  the  accident  and  pain  she 
had  been  allowed  to  suffer,  and  believed  more  firmly  in 
God's  mercy,  which  she  had  felt  inclined  to  doubt. 

''  Lillian,"  said  Elsie  Bernard  to  her  daughter,  "here  is  a 
letter  from  your  aunt  ]\larion.     Poor  Marion  !  " 

'*  What  does  it  say,  mamma,  about  ^layon?  " 

'•  It  says  we  may  expect  her  immediately,  for  she  will  start 
for  New  York  in  a  few  days." 

"What!  So  soon?  It  can't  be  those  Mormons  have 
driven  Mayon  from  her  home  alrcad}',  by  wanting  her  to 
marry  before  she  is  grown  up! " 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  223 

''  But  it  is  SO,  my  dear.  My  sister  writes  that  they  are  all 
in  great  distress,  caused  by  her  father's  determination  that 
Mayon  shall  marry  his  partner.  She  is  secretly  [)lanninj^  to 
send  her  to  us,  and  what  is  more,  the  other  wife  Edith  is 
coming  with  her." 

''0  1  am  so  glad  that  I  shall  soon  have  Mayon  here  with 
me;  but,  mamma,  did  you  ever  hear  of  anything  so  ridicu- 
lous as  a  girl  travelling  in  a  friendly  manner  with  the 
polygamic  wife  of  her  father?  But  aunt  Wells  will  bo 
glad,  will  she  not,  for  she  is  the  daughter  of  her  lost  Lillian's 
governess,  of  whom  she  was  once  so  lond?" 

"Yes,  Lillian,  and  we  will  all  be  glad  that  one  more  soul 
will  escape  from  Mormonism,  and  will  give  her  a  cordial 
welcome  for  her  own  sake  as  well  as  for  r.unt  Wells'.  But 
let  me  see  the  date  of  this  letter.  Why,  it  must  have  been 
delayed  !  Lillian,  they  should  be  here  by  this  time.  Every 
train  must  be  watched,  for  they  are  strangers  in  a  strange 
land,  and  will  not  know  how  to  find  us." 

So  some  member  of  the  family  was  at  the  depot,  and 
watched  the  passengers  of  every  train  that  might  bring 
them.  But  two  days  passed  and  Lillian  began  to  be  im- 
patient, when  she  and  aunt  Wells  returned,  and  as  the 
carriage  door  was  opened  Edith  and  iNLayon  stepped  out. 

"  Mamma !"  exclaimed  Lillian,  "come  and  greet  Mayon 
and  Miss  Parker"  (for  Edith  decided  to  assume  her  former 
name — the  name  she  considered  her  only  lawful  one).  "  Wo 
only  knew  them  by  ^liss  Parker,  whom  aunt  Weils  declared 
was  her  dear  Frances.  And  she  could  hardly  be  persuaded 
tha':  it  was  not  her  old  friend  instead  of  her  friend's 
dau^jhter." 

The  fugitives  could  ask  for  no  more  of  love  and  welcome 
than  they  here  received.  Lillian  and  ILirry  were  overjoyed, 
and  tlieir  mother,  as  she  warmly  embraced  her  sister's 
daughter,  was  blinded  by  tears  of  emotion. 


224  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

"  0,  m}^  child,"  she  said,  "would  that  my  dear  sister  might 
have  come,  too.  But  where  are  the  golden  curls  and  blue 
eyes  that  Marion's  daughter  should  have?  You  are  like 
your  father,  Mayon." 

Mayon  answered,  "  Yes,  I  am  like  my  father.  You  should 
see  Forest :  he  has  mother's  golden  hair  and  blue  eyes.  He 
is  very  handsome." 

Elsie's  heart  w^nt  out  towards  Mayon  with  almost  a 
mother's  love,  and  aunt  Wells  was  almost  jealous  of  her 
affection  for  her. 

When  Walter  Bernard  returned  from  business,  with  all 
the  sincerity  of  his  noble  heart  he  welcomed  the  fugitives  to 
his  home,  saying  to  Mayon : 

"  We  have  regarded  you  as  one  of  our  family  for  years, 
you  know,  and  feel  now  that  our  absent  member  has  come 
home.  LiUian's  happiness  will  now  be  complete,  I  believe, 
and  our  friend  Edith  has  always  belonged  to  aunt  Wells' 
family,  and  as  she  and  her  friends  belong  to  us,  you  see  we 
are  now  to  be  a  very  happy  reunited  family." 

As  Edith  and  Mayon  sought  their  rest,  the  one  sharing 
aunt  Wells'  room,  and  the  other  appropriated  by  her  cousin 
Lilhan,  there  were  two  thankful  hearts  giving  praise  to  the 
all-wise  Father,  who  had  brought  them  safely  to  this  haven 
of  rest.  Sad  were  the  thoughts  of  dear  ones  left  behind,  but 
nothing  could  make  them  very  unhappy  in  the  bosom  of 
such  a  loving  family,  and  though  Mayon's  pillow  was  wet 
with  tears,  as  she  thought  of  a  dear  mother  far  away,  yet 
they  were  not  altogether  tears  of  sorrow. 

The  family  life  they  had  now  come  into,  with  its  perfect 
love  and  affectionate  spirit,  its  absence  of  all  jealousy,  lack 
of  confidence,  fam.ily  jarring,  and,  above  all,  sad  faces,  was 
a  delightful  study  to  these  young  Mormon  women,  who  were 
themselves  inclined  to  sadness,  and  who  were  unaccustomed 
to  seeing  happy  women,  young  or  old. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  225 

Elsie,  with  her  exuberant  spirits,  smiling  face,  and  playful 
manner,  even  at  her  age,  formed  such  a  contrast  to  her  sister, 
once  as  fair  and  gay  as  she,  that  they  could  onl}^  look  at  her 
"with  wonder,  even  though  they  had  been  prepared  for  change 
in  ever}^  way'  in  Gentile  life. 

Aunt  Wells,  too,  though  she  had  passed  through  life's  sor- 
rows and  was  nearing  the  grave,  had  a  look  of  calm,  sweet 
content  that  surprised  them. 

They  realized  then  the  beauty  of  these  family  relations  as 
they  could  not  from  the  teachings  of  a  mother.  Each  had 
been  carefully  taught  in  childhood  all  her  mother  was  capa- 
ble of  teaching  of  Gentile  life,  but  even  from  those  teachings 
no  correct  idea  could  be  formed.  Now  they  were  in  the 
world  and  of  the  world.  Though  their  mothers  had  longed 
in  vain  for  this  blessing,  the  daughters  were  now  enjoying  it. 

Edith  gradually  lost  her  quiet  sadness,  while  Mayon,  in 
the  warm  influence  of  Lillian's  sunny,  merry  temperament, 
changed  rapidly  from  a  quiet  girl,  thoughtful  beyond  her 
years,  to  a  sprightliness  in  voice  and  manner  which  greatly 
added  to  her  charms.  Thoughts  of  home  and  mother,  how- 
ever, oft  brought  the  tears  to  her  eyes  and  a  quiver  to  her 
tones.  Her  first  act  was  to  write  a  long,  loving  letter  to  her 
mother,  which  was  greedily  devoured  by  the  latter  in  her 
anxiety  to  know  of  her  daughter's  safe  arrival. 

The  question  of  IMayon's  education  was  now  to  be  consid- 
ered. Lillian  had  entered  a  girls'  school  on  the  banks  of  the 
Hudson  a  3'ear  previous,  and  was  anxious  that  Mayon  should 
go  there  with  her  when  she  returned  at  the  close  of  her 
present  vacation. 

Mayon  shrank  from  the  publicity  of  a  school,  and  felt  that 
it  would  be  a  painful  ordeal  for  her  to  enter  one,  ignorant, 
as  she  was,  of  all  public  institutions,  and  of  the  manners 
and  customs  of  the  people.  She  had  been  reared  in  the 
greatest  of  retirement,  never  having  been  in  a  school,  and 
15 


226  ELDER    NORTIIFIELD's   HOME  ;    OR, 

was  consequently  very  timid  and  quite  embarrassed  with 
strangers.  She  believed,  however,  that  all  Gentile  girls  were 
kind  and  lovable.  Her  little  experience  of  them  justified 
that  opinion,  and  she  wished  she  might  have  courage  to  be- 
come one  of  the  great  number  of  pupils  at  Lillian's  school. 
Her  anxiety  to  obtain  an  education  was  very  strong,  and  she 
was  by  no  means  ignorant  of  the  knowdedge  that  books  could 
give  her,  for  her  mother  had  taught  her  welL 

Aunt  Wells,  with  her  kind,  clear  good  sense,  settled  the 
question  by  saying : 

"  Mayon's  studies  should  begin  not  with  books  or  school- 
life,  but  she  must  first  learn  of  our  manners,  customs,  re- 
ligion, and  social  life.  I  say  that  the  coming  winter  should 
be  devoted  to  society,  pleasure,  and  sight-seeing  in  our  city. 
Mayon's  first  study  should  be  of  the  geograph}^  of  her  new 
home.  We  must  make  her  life  as  gay  and  happy  as  a  young 
girl's  life  can  be  in  New  York  city." 

"  Well  said,  aunt  Wells,"  said  her  nephew,  who  was  an 
important  member  of  that  family  council.  "  I  am  glad  j^ou 
agree  with  me  that  the  poor  girl  should  not  be  weighed 
down  with  Latin  declensions  or  mathematical  problems  now, 
when  all  her  life  has  been  a  thoughtful  and  somewhat  sad 
one.  Make  her  so  gay  and  happy  that  her  voice  will  ring 
with  laughter  as  it  does  now  with  song." 

"  If  only  Lillian  was  to  be  at  home,"  sighed  aunt  Wells, 
*4t  would  be  so  much  easier  for  Mayon  to  mingle  in  society." 

But  Lillian's  whole  course  of  study  could  not  well  be  in- 
terrupted, and  soon  Mayon  had  to  part  with  her  cousin,  who 
had  assisted  so  much  in  rendering  her  first  few  days  of  life 
in  "  the  world  "  very  happy  ones. 

Edith  would  not  consent  to  remain  dependent  on  the 
bounty  of  her  friends,  and  insisted  on  trying  to  obtain  em- 
ployment ;  and  at  last,  to  content  her,  they  gave  her  needle- 
work to  do,  and  thus  she  became  the  family  seamstress. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  227 

She  was  treated,  liowever,  as  her  mother  had  been  by  this 
same  old  lady  in  her  younger  days,  not  as  a  servant,  but  as 
a  friend  and  member  of  the  family.  She  could  not  be  per- 
suaded away  from  her  life-long  habit  of  remaining  at  home ; 
and  though  ]Mayon  was  constantly  going  to  see  every  phase 
of  life  and  entertainment  the  city  afforded,  yet  it  was  only 
when,  with  an  affectionate  caress,  she  said,  "  Please,  dear 
Edith,  come  with  me  this  once,"  that  she  yielded. 

Mayon  was  fast  learning  what  her  friends  wished.  She 
became  less  shy  and  sensitive  in  company,  with  much  tact 
learning  to  avoid  the  oddities  of  manner  peculiar  to  her 
former  life,  and  to  adopt  the  customs  of  the  people  wdth 
whom  she  associated.  Always  graceful,  always  beautiful 
and  intelligent,  and  distinguished  as  being  a  Mormon 
refugee,  it  was  no  wonder  that  she  made  many  friends  in  a 
short  time.  The  sights  and  sounds  of  the  city,  its  schools, 
libraries,  etc.,  ceased  after  a  time  to  be  such  wonderful  ob- 
jects of  interest  to  her  as  at  first.  But  attendance  at  church 
was  always  a  great  delight.  Never  had  she  heard  the 
preaching  of  the  Gentile  religion,  and  with  Edith  she  drank 
in  every  word  that  fell  from  the  minister's  lips ;  and  though 
they  harmonized  with  her  mother's  teachings,  yet  new  light 
seemed  to  come  to  their  souls,  and  they  were  something  like 
the  poor  heathen  of  other  lands,  receiving  with  wonder  and 
delight  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  Whenever  they  had  at- 
tended worship  in  Salt  Lake  City,  they  had  listened  to 
exhortations  to  duty,  obedience  and  sacrifice,  the  glory  of 
suffering  for  religion's  sake,  until,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
teachings  of  careful  mothers,  they  would  have  never  known 
that  there  was  anything  more  cheering,  more  beautiful  than 
these  sterner  attributes.  They  were  not  told  of  the  love 
of  God  the  Father  to  his  children,  and  Christ's  sacrifice 
once  for  all  for  the  world,  was  not  referred  to.  Now  they 
weie  led  to  realize  the  beauties  of  the  Gentile  religion,  and 


228  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;    OR, 

many  times  Mayon's  eager,  happy  face,  sometimes  tearful, 
attracted  the  attention  of  her  fellow- worshippers  as  she  lis- 
tened with  an  absorbing  interest,  all  unconscious  of  her 
surroundings.  As  the  service  closed  it  was  with  difficulty 
sometimes  that  she  could  recall  her  mind  to  the  practical 
affixirs  of  life.  Edith,  too,  intensely  enjoyed  these  religious 
services,  and  began  to  experience  much  of  real  happiness, 
which  she  had  said  she  never  expected  to  enjoy.  They 
faithfully  made  record  of  everything  of  interest  in  their 
lives  for  the  comfort  of  one  who  had  sacrificed  so  much  for 
her  child. 

When  spring  came,  Edith  began  to  tire  of  city  life,  sights 
and  sounds,  and  longed  for  the  country.  She  felt  a  languor 
and  failing  of  strength,  that  caused  her  to  contemplate  seek- 
ing occupation  out  of  the  city.  Though  loth  to  part  with 
her,  as  she  w\as  to  leave  them,  her  friends  thought  it  wise  to 
grant  her  request,  and  seek  employment  for  her  with  some 
good  family  in  the  country.  Dependent  she  would  not  be, 
and  they  could  not  persuade  her  to  accept  support  unearned 
by  herself.  Mrs.  Bernard  found  a  situation  for  Edith  with  a 
friend  of  hers  some  forty  miles  distant.  Her  duties  were 
confined  to  the  partial  care  of  two  children  and  assistance  in 
the  family  sewing.  She  was  very  pleasantly  situated,  and 
began  to  recruit  in  health  and  strength.  Another  vacancy 
was  made  in  the  family  circle  of  the  Bernards  in  a  few 
months.  During  Lillian's  long  summer  vacation  she  made 
a  new  plea  for  Mayon's  companionship  in  school. 

"  Mayon,"  said  she,  "  I  know  you  will  be  happy  there,  for 
you  love  to  study  so  well  and  there  arc  so  many  dear  good 
girls  that  you  cannot  feel  lonely  or  timid  among  them  all. 
You  will  soon  feel  perfectly  at  home,  and  things  will  not 
seem  so  strange  or  new  as  when  you  first  came." 

*'  Yes,  Lillian,  I  dare  say  I  should  soon  get  accustomed  to 
it,  and  like  it  very  much.     I  think  I  should  begin  to  study 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  229 

now,  for  I  wish  to  fit  myself  for  teaching,  tmcl  should  lose 
no  time." 

"As  to  the  teaching,  I  am  sure  there  is  no  need  of  that; 
but  I  will  go  to  aunt  Wells  with  my  heart's  desire,  as  she 
seems  to  assume  the  right  to  guide  your  interests,  and  she 
will  not  refuse  if  she  knows  we  both  wish  it  strongly." 

"  I  vvill  go  with  you,  Lillian,  and  will  be  guided  entirely 
by  her  wishes;  but  I  now  feel  as  though  I  would  really  like 
to  try  school  life.  That  will  be  as  great  a  novelty  for  me  as 
my  experiences  the  past  few  months  have  been,  for  3"ou 
know  I  never  entered  a  school-room  till  aunt  Elsie  took  me 
to  visit  the  schools  here." 

Aunt  Wells  was  inclined  to  grant  the  request  of  her  nieces, 
and  it  followed  that  one  day  two  happy  young  girls  bid  their 
friends  good-bye  and  entered  D Seminary,  one  as  a  re- 
turned member,  the  other  as  a  new  pupil. 

Mayon  endured  the  scrutiny  of  a  room  full  of  school-girls 
and  a  corps  of  teachers  quite  bravely.  As  her  classes  and 
lessons  were  assigned  to  her,  she  went  to  work  with  a  will, 
and  soon  the  embarrassment  of  her  position  wore  off  and  she 
began  to  make  friends  with  her  schoolmates.  She  felt  that 
zest  and  enjoyment  in  school-life  that  can  only  be  known  by 
one  whose  education  has  been  conducted  hitherto  in  private. 
Life  to  her  was  a  glorious  thing  now;  she  was  enjoying  all 
the  blessings  and  advantages,  all  the  joys  that  she  had  longed 
for  in  Gentile  life,  save  one — the  companionship  of  father, 
mother  and  brother.  Thoughts  of  longing  for  them  and 
shades  of  liomesickness  troubled  her  at  times,  in  spite  of  all 
her  liappiness. 

Mayon  had  from  her  first  entrance  into  the  school  noticed 
a  slight,  frail  girl,  whose  graceful,  pleasant  ways  and  tone  of 
voice  resembled  her  old  friend.  Flora  Winchester.  Then  her 
features  reminded  her  of  Flora,  though  the  resemblance  was 
not  strong.    She  heard  one  of  her  schoolmates  address  her  as 


230  ELDER  northfield's  home;  or, 

Jessie,  then  she  learned  from  Lillian  that  her  name  was 
Jessie  Winchester. 

"  O  Lillian  !  "  said  she,  "  can  it  be  that  she  is  poor  Flora's 
sister?" 

And  then  for  the  first  time  she  told  Lillian  the  story  of 
Flora  Winchester.  She  resolved  to  seek  her  and  learn  for 
herself.  So  Lillian  asked  Jessie  Winchester  to  come  to  their 
room  during  recreation  hour.  She  complied,  and  thus  began 
a  friendship  between  Jessie  and  Mayon  which  was  firm  and 
true,  and  lasting. 

"  Have  3' on  a  sister  Flora?  "  asked  Mayon. 

"Yes,  I  suppose  I  have.  Why  do  you  ask?  Have  you 
ever  seen  her?  " 

"  I  have  seen  a  Flora  Winchester  from  W ,  a  girl  who 

had  a  sister  Jessie  and  two  brothers.  I  have  seen  her,  and 
known  her,  and  loved  her.  She  has  shared  my  home  and 
my  room,  and  was  like  a  sister  to  me,  and  is  even  now  dearer 
than  my  own  half-sister." 

"0  tell  me!  where  did  j^ou  see  her?  It  cannot  be,  then, 
that  she  went  to  Utah  if  this  is  true.  You  are  not  from 
Utah,  are  you?" 

"  Yes,  I  came  away  from  Salt  Lake  City  a  few  months  ago." 

"  Then,  where  and  how  is  Flora  now?  "    . 

"  She  is  there  yet,  and  is  the  wife  of  Elder  Burnside." 

*' I  knew  it!  I  told  mother  so.  I  knew  that  man  had 
bewitched  our  Flora,  or  she  never  would  have  left  us.  O 
dear  I  She  was  the  light  of  our  home,  and  we  have  not  been 
happy  at  all  since  she  left;  and  I  think  flUher  is  the  most 
unhappy  of  us  all,  though  he  is  still  so  angry  at  her  that  he 
will  not  allow  her  name  to  be  mentioned ;  and  we  are  all 
forbidden  to  write  to  her,  or  to  receive  letters  if  she  should 
write.  But  mother  and  Carlos  did  write  her  two  or  three 
letters,  notwithstanding,  though  they  never  received  any 
answer.  It  was  not  long  after  she  went  away.  Do  you  know 
Y/hether  she  ever  received  the  letters  ?  " 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  231 

"  I  think  she  never  did,"  said  Mayon. 

"Father,  I  know,  loved  Flora  the  best  of  us  all;  but  he 
is  very  stern,  if  offended,  though  always  kind  if  we  obey 
him.  And  I  believe  he  would  gladly  receive  Flora  to-day 
if  it  were  not  for  his  will  and  pride.  I  am  so  glad  to  see  one 
wlio  can  tell  me  about  her,  and  one  who  has  been  kind  to 
her.  How  I  thank  you  for  being  a  friend  to  my  sister!  Little 
did  I  think,  when  I  noticed  the  tall  girl,  with  large,  dark  eyes 
and  long  curls,  among  the  new-comers  here,  that  she  was 
a  friend  to  my  sister.  This  is  the  first  we  have  heard  from 
her.     Now,  please,  tell  me  all  about  Flora,  and  I  will  listen." 

Then  Mayon  told  the  eager,  anxious  girl  all  that  she  knew 
of  her  loved  sister  and  how  she  had  vainly  tried  to  persuade 
her  to  return  to  her  home.  Jessie  was  affected  to  tears  by 
Mayon's  account  of  Flora's  homesickness,  her  longing  for 
friends  and  her  marriage.  She  could  not  rest  till  she  had 
gained  the  consent  of  Mayon  and  Lillian  to  go  with  her  to 
her  home,  that  her  mother  might  hear  from  Mayon's  own 
lips  Flora's  recent  history.  They  lived  but  a  few  miles  from 
the  school,  and  Jessie  returned  to  her  home  every  Saturday, 
there  to  spend  the  Sabbath. 

"  Father  must  not  hear  a  word,"  said  Jessie;  "  but  mother 
and  the  boys  will  be  so  glad  to  see  you  and  hear  you  talk 
of  her.  Mother  has  been  almost  crazy  about  her,  wondering 
what  has  been  her  fate.  Almost  any  certainty  would  be 
better  for  her  than  this  suspense.  We  feared  she  would 
marry  if  she  went  among  the  Mormons,  unless  she  repented 
and  came  back,  and  father  made  it  almost  impossible  for  her 
to  do  that;  besides,  she  is  so  proud  she  could  never  bear  the 
odium  that  would  attach  itself  to  her.  Father  feels  her  be- 
coming a  Mormon  a  disgrace;  but  if  he  were  not  so  proud,  I 
know  he  would  be  as  glad  to  hear  from  her  as  we  are.  Per- 
haps in  time  he  will  change ;  but,  0  dear !  it  is  too  late  even 
now  to  get  her  back,  but  it  is  such  a  comfort  to  meet  one 


232  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

T^'ho  has  been  a  friend  to  her.  Mayon — may  I  call  you 
Mayon  ?  I  shall  always  love  you  for  your  kindness  to  my 
sister." 

Then  she  became  interested  in  Mayon's  own  history,  and 
they  talked  till  the  bell  rang  for  prayers. 

The  next  week  Lillian  and  Mayon  went  with  Jessie  to  her 
pleasant  but  unpretentious  home,  there  to  spend  the  Sab- 
bath. Jessie  had  written  that  she  w^ould  bring  friends  home 
with  her,  but  had  given  no  further  information.  When  she 
presented  them  to  her  mother,  and  explained  that  Mayon 
had  recently  come  from  Salt  Lake  City  and  was  a  friend  to 
Flora  there,  and  that  her  home  had  been  Flora's  home,  then 
the  mother  threw  her  arms  round  Mayon's  neck  and  wept. 
As  soon  as  she  could  calm  herself  she  requested  Mayon  to 
tell  her  all  she  knew  of  Flora.  Mayon  did  so,  and  emotions 
of  love,  grief,  thankfulness  and  fear  for  her  daughter,  filled 
her  heart  as  Mayon  gave  the  different  phases  of  Flora's  his- 
tory. The  existing  fact  of  her  matrimonial  alliance  checked 
all  feelings  of  hope  for  her  return.  It  cast  a  gloom  over  all 
contemplation  of  her  daughter.  Poor  Flora  was  doubtless 
eternally  lost  to  them ;  but,  in  spite  of  the  sadness  of  this 
conviction,  there  was  comfort  in  hearing  from  her  and  meet- 
ing one  who  had  been  her  friend  and  confidant. 

Carlos  Winchester  had  just  finished  his  collegiate  course, 
and  was  now  pursuing  the  study  of  law  with  an  able  lawyer 
in  the  village.  Leonard,  who  was  the  youngest  of  the  family, 
was  preparing  for  college  at  the  village  academy.  Their 
father,  wdio  was  in  moderate  circumstances,  w^as  yet  able  to 
give  his  children  the  advantages  of  education,  though  his 
business  did  not  yield  an  income  sufficient  for  the  indulgence 
of  many  luxuries. 

Unknown  to  the  narrator  of  Flora's  history,  also  to  his 
family,  this  man  was  a  listener  to  the  last  of  her  story.  His 
return  from  business  was  earlier  than  usual,  or  he  would  not 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  233 

have  heard  Flora's  name  mentioned,  for  it  had  been  forbid- 
den, and  never  was  spoken  when  there  was  any  danger  of 
being  heard  by  liim.  Though  outward  obedience  was  yielded 
him,  yet  in  private  it  was  not  seldom  that  the  mother  and 
her  three  remaining  children  referred  to  the  missing  fourth. 
Mr.  Winchester  paused  to  listen  at  the  door  as  his  ear  caught 
the  name,  Flora,  spoken  in  unfamiliar  tones.  He  continued 
to  listen  till  he  had  learned  much  that  roused  his  paternal 
feelings.  He  left  the  house  unperceived  by  his  family,  and 
returned  at  supper  time.  Then  was  gathered  the  entire 
family:  the  dignified,  though  kind  father;  the  quiet,  subdued 
mother ;  Carlos,  with  his  tall,  lithe  figure,  brown  wavy  locks, 
lofty  forehead,  and  kind,  clear  gray  eyes,  so  resembling 
Flora's  that  Mayon  almost  gave  a  start  at  sight  of  him ; 
Jessie,  whose  sweet,  graceful  ways  gave  her  a  strong  influ- 
ence on  her  brothers ;  and  Leonard,  sturdy,  merry  Leonard, 
who  tried  hard  to  be  quiet  and  dignified,  like  his  father,  but 
in  vain,  and  who  often  made  his  home  ring  with  laughter  by 
the  exercise  of  his  fun-loving  propensities.  Lillian  and 
Mayon  soon  felt  quite  at  ease  with  their  new  friends. 

Carlos  and  Leonard  were  still  in  ignorance  of  Mayon's 
knowledge  of  Flora  or  of  her  former  home.  Mr.  Winchester, 
after  cordially  greeting  his  daughter's  friends,  soon  relapsed 
into  a  preoccupied  silence,  and  once,  as  his  wife  made  some 
reference  to  their  visitors,  he  abruptly  addressed  Mayon  as 
Flora,  and  immediately  recalled  the  name ;  and  again,  on 
being  asked  where  a  certain  acquaintance  of  the  family  was, 
he  absently  answered,  "In  Utah,"  then,  seeming  very  much 
embarrassed,  he  emerged  from  his  absent-mindedness  and 
forced  himself  to  become  sociable,  as  was  his  custom  with 
his  family. 

On  the  following  day  the  young  people  were  assembled  by 
themselves,  and  Mayon  repeated  Flora's  story  for  the  benefit 
of  her  brothers.    They  were  intensely  interested,  and  there 


234  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;    OR, 

were  tears  in  Carlos'  eyes  and  a  tremor  in  his  voice  as  he 
grasped  Mavon^s  hand  and  said,  ''God  bless  you  for  your 
kindness  to  my  sister,"  while  Leonard  fidgeted  uneasily  in 
his  chair,  and  at  last  exploded  with,  ''Hang  it!  why  don't 
the  government  put  a  stop  to  the  whole  thing?  I  would 
like  just  to  put  a  bullet  through  that  scoundrel  Burnside, 
who  robbed  us  of  our  Flora." 

Mayon  and  Lillian  were  treated  with  the  greatest  of  atten- 
tion, and  every  possible  means  was  employed  to  add  to  the 
pleasure  of  their  short  visit.  Each  seemed  to  vie  with  the 
other  in  showing  grateful  kindnesses  to  Mayon,  and  when 
the  three  returned  to  school,  the  warmest,  heartiest  hand- 
grasp  was  that  of  Mr.  Winchester.  Mayon  heartily  wished 
she  dared  speak  freely  to  him  of  his  daughter,  but  Jessie 
enjoined  her  to  refrain  from  such  a  course.  This  was  only 
the  beginning  of  an  intimate  companionship  and  much  time 
spent  in  the  society  of  the  Winchester  family.  For  Mayon 
came  to  them  something  like  a  representative  of  their  lost 
one,  and  in  a  certain  degree  began  to  fill  her  place  in  their 
hearts.  Carlos  said  she  must  allow  them  to  regard  her  as  a 
sister  when  with  them,  and,  as  he  had  formerly  been  devoted 
to  his  favorite  Flora,  he  now  monopolized  much  of  Mayon's 
time,  and  delighted  in  her  society ;  not,  however,  exhibiting 
a  warmer  feeling  than  that  friendly  brotherly  interest  which 
had  been  awakened  through  his  affection  for  his  absent  sis- 
ter. Mayon  souglit  to  learn  from  her  mother's  letters  of 
Flora's  ])resent  circumstances,  and  to  open  through  their 
letters  a  correspondence  between  her  and  her  family,  but  she 
had  removed  with  her  liusband  to  a  distant  part  of  the  Ter- 
ritory, and  moved  again,  till  Mrs.  Northfield  had  lost  all 
trace  of  her.  She  at  last  was  told  where  they  were  living, 
and  sent  several  letters  to  her  address,  but  received  no  an- 
swer; so  the  efforts  to  establish  a  correspondence  with  her 
or  concerning  her  were  fruitless,  and  her  friends  could  learn 
no  more  of  her  than  what  Mayon  had  told  them. 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  235 

A  year  passed,  and  rapidl}^  and  profital)ly  to  Mavon, 
whose  only  sorrow  was  her  separation  from  her  mother. 
They  constantly  cheered  each  other,  however,  with  long  let- 
ters of  unreserved  confidence. 

Mayon  and  Lillian,  who  excelled  in  scholarship,  were 
among  the  competitors  for  prizes,  and  proved  formidable 
rivids  for  their  classmates.  Mayon  made  good  use  of  her 
time,  and  had  become  a  great  favorite  with  teachers  and 
scholars.  Even  her  schoulmates'  petty  jealousy  for  the 
Mormon  girl's  superiority  she  warded  off  by  kindly  ignoring 
its  existence,  and  winning  the  love  of  all. 

Although  in  Mayon's  intercourse  with  the  Winchesters  no 
attempt  now  was  made  to  keep  secret  from  Mr.  Winchester 
her  former  home  and  life  in  Mormondom,  yet  no  word  had 
been  spoken  by  him  to  any  one  with  regard  to  Flora.  But 
all  were  glad  to  observe  that  he  always  listened  with  peculiar 
interest  to  anything  Mayon  had  to  say  of  her  life  in  Utah, 
though  he  never  had  asked  her  one  question  on  the  subject. 
But  one  day  he  invited  her  to  ride  with  him  alone,  and  then 
he  questioned  her  concerning  the  doctrines,  regulations  and 
marriage  relations  of  the  Church.  He  asked  particularly  of 
the  latter,  and  showed  much  desire  to  become  informed  con- 
cerning the  character  of  the  Mormon  men,  from  Brigham 
Young  down  to  the  most  obscure  male  member  of  the  Church. 
He  sought  to  learn  whether  they  were,  as  a  rule,  kind  and 
humane,  or  otherwise.  Mayon  could  not  give  an  answer  to 
this  question  very  favorable  to  the  generality  of  Mormons, 
but,  speaking  from  her  own  experience,  she  had  little  to  say 
to  their  discredit.  She  told  him,  in  the  course  of  their  con- 
versation, of  a  young  girl  who  came  to  them  from  tlie  East, 
deceived  into  the  belief  by  an  elder,  and  forbidden  her 
father's  house  in  his  anger.  She  spoke  in  strong  terms  of 
the  girl's  unhappiness  and  homesickness,  of  her  longing  to 
receive  the  kind,  loving  look  of  her  then  angry  parent,  of  her 


236  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;   OR, 

sorrow  at  separation  from  mother,  sister  and  brothers,  and 
of  her  own  effort  to  persuade  her  to  give  up  her  false  religion 
and  return,  a  penitent,  to  her  father's  house.  She  repeated 
the  reply  the  girl  had  made,  saying  it  was  too  late,  for  her 
father  had  declared  she  never  should  enter  his  house  again ; 
and,  though  she  longed  to  return  to  her  home,  yet  it  was 
now  impossible,  and  she  would  make  the  best  of  it. 

Her  companion  was  silent  at  Mayon's  conclusion,  and  when 
he  spoke,  his  voice  was  husky,  in  spite  of  hiniself.  Mayon 
hoped  she  had  softened  his  heart  towards  his  erring  daughter, 
and  not  without  reason.  Though  still  too  proud  to  speak  of 
her,  yet  the  ice  in  his  heart  was  thawing. 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  237 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

AT  the  close  of  Mayon's  second  year  at  school  Lillian 
graduated,  and  with  honor,  and  Mayon  knew  that 
when  she  returned  after  vacation  she  must  come  alone. 
Therefore  graduation  day  was  rather  a  sad  one  to  her.  But 
Jessie's  parents  had  invited  her  to  spend  the  summer  months 
at  her  home,  and,  as  she  had  never  spent  much  time  in  the 
country,  she  was  very  glad  to  accept  the  invitation.  Lillian, 
and  indeed  her  aunt's  whole  family,  regretted  to  be  deprived 
of  lier  society,  but  aunt  Wells  said :  "  It  is  just  wliat  she 
needs.  She  has  become  familiar  with  city  life  and  with 
school  life,  and  it  is  time  she  now  enjoyed  the  delights  of  the 
country."  So  Mayon  left  the  school  with  Jessie  instead  of 
with  Lillian  as  usual.  How  she  enjoyed  the  pure  air,  the 
green  fields,  the  wild  flowers  and  freedom  from  all  the  re- 
straints of  school  discipline  or  city  conventionalities ! 

Carlos  was  also  taking  a  vacation  from  his  studies,  and  as 
Jessie  was  busy  mornings  assisting  her  mother  about  her 
household  duties  it  fell  to  Carlos'  lot  to  entertain  his  sister 
Mayon,  as  he  called  her.  So  together  they  read  Shakespeare, 
or  took  long  morning  drives  or  walks  in  the  fields  and  forests 
with  a  view  to  a  practical  study  of  botany.  But  one,  at  least, 
was  learning  in  the  close  companionship  of  these  sunny  daj^s, 
a  lesson  of  a  different  character.  Carlos  did  not  so  often  call 
Mayon,  sister,  as  he  had  done,  and,  as  he  offered  her  many 
little  tokens  of  esteem,  spoke  words  expressing  his  high  re- 
gard for  her,  he  was  annoyed  to  see  how  composedly  she 
received  them,  with  perfect  unembarrassment.    They  never 


li:LDER    NORTHFIELD  S    HOME  ;    OR, 

called  a  conscious  blush  to  her  check  or  hesitating  tremor  in 
her  voice.  He  knew  her  heart  was  stirred  by  no  answering 
emotion  to  the  sentiment  he  now  felt  for  her.  Perfectly  un- 
conscious Mayon  continued  to  enjoy  his  society,  and  received 
at  his  hands  the  many  pleasures  the  country  afforded  to  one 
"who  had  never  known  its  attractions.  Perhaps  a  Gentile 
girl  would  have  seen  in  his  manner  more  than  a  brotherly 
affection,  but  Mayon  did  not  yet  thoroughly  understand 
Gentile  life,  and  anything  that  seemed  strange  or  peculiar  to 
her  in  it  she  attributed  to  her  own  ignorance  of  anything 
outside  Mormonism. 

"Jessie,"  said  Carlos  one  day  when  alone  with  his  sister, 
"  do  you  think  Mayon  ever  thinks  of  me  in  any  way  but  as 
a  brother  or  intimate  friend  ?  " 

"  Why,  Carlos?  "  innocently  asked  Jessie. 

"  Because,"  and  then  Carlos'  cheek  reddened — "  Jessie,  I 
will  tell  you  a  secret.  I  am  tired  of  being  her  brother  :  I — 
I — I  wish  to  be  regarded  in  a  different  relation.  You  under- 
stand, Jessie.  I  love  IMayon  with  my  whole  soul,  and  I  be- 
lieve she  does  not  suspect  it,  and  cares  no  more  for  me  than 
for  many  another  friend.  I  have  tried  to  give  her  little  hints, 
but  she  takes  them  so  exasperatingly  cool,  and  returns  my 
affection  in  such  a  wise,  sisterly  manner,  without  the  slightest 
shade  of  embarrassment,  that  sometimes  I  get  desperate  and 
have  to  bite  my  lips  to  keep  them  from  saying  certain 
things.  I  think  she  would  be  shocked  and  very  sorry,  and 
would  go  aw^ay  from  here,  and  then — 0  Jessie — how  lonely 
we  should  be  !  " 

"  Dear  Carlos,  I  did  not  think  matters  were  so  serious  as 
that.  Do  not  be  so  hopeless.  Even  if  no  such  thought  has 
entered  Mayon's  head  there  is  plenty  of  time  yet  for  that 
result,  and  at  least  you  have  the  comfort  of  knowing  she  is 
fond  of  you.  Carlos,  nothing  would  suit  me  better  than  that 
you  should  make  Mayon  really  what  she  seems,  my  sister; 


SACRIFICED    OJ\    THE    MORMOrM    ALTAR.  239 

and  father  and    mother  I  am  sure  would   be  very  much 
pleased.     Remember,  '  Faint  heart,'  etc.,  Carlos." 

"Yes,  sister,  I  will,  but  I  will  control  my  tongue  till 
Mayon's  happy  summer  draws  to  a  close,  at  least,  unless  she 
pjives  me  more  reason  for  hope."  Thus  saying  Carlos  lelt 
her,  but  alas  for  tlie  frailty  of  human  resolutions ! 

Not  a  week  had  passed  when  one  day  as  he  and  Mayon 
had  seated  themselves  on  a  m.ossy  bed,  by  the  side  of  a  little 
fairy  stream  in  a  valley  thickly  wooded  with  pine,  and  were 
analyzing  specimens  of  the  forest  wild  flowers,  Carlos  be- 
came so  confused  as  to  awkwardly  pull  the  delicate  flower 
to  pieces,  scattering  it  upon  the  ground  at  his  feet,  making 
the  most  absurd  blunders  in  the  use  of  botanical  terms. 

"  Carlos,  Carlos,"  exclaimed  Mayon,  "  what  are  you  saying 
and  what  are  you  doing  ?  Look  at  that  poor  little  blossom 
all  torn  in  pieces.  What  are  you  thinking  of  to  destroy  it 
so  ?  You  look  as  though  you  would  like  to  annihilate  the 
whole  floral  kingdom." 

"  Mayon,"  said  he,  and  he  clasped  her  hand  in  his,  "  I  will 
tell  you  what  T  am  thinking  of,  if  you  will  hear  me.  I  am 
thinking  of  one  who  came  to  my  home  and  filled  a  sister's 
place  in  my  heart.  A  dear  sister  she  became  too,  and  I  find 
too  dear  for  my  peace  of  mind,  if  our  present  relations 
toward  each  other  continue.  Mayon,  I  love  you  with  no 
brother's  love.  Be  a  sister  to  me  no  longer,  but  promise  to 
become  my  wife  some  time." 

"  0,  Carlos,"  said  Mayon,  as  she  attempted  to  withdraw 
her  hand,  but  he  held  it  fast,  "I  am  so  sorry.  I  never 
dreamed  of  this.  I  love  you,  Carlos,  but  not  in  that  way. 
No,  I  cannot  be  your  wife.  I  never  thought  of  that.  Please 
do  not  blame  me  for  letting  you  say  this.  How  could  I 
know  you  thought  of  me  in  this  way  ?  Please,  dear  brother, 
forget  it  all,  and  let  us  be  the  same  to  each  other  as  before." 
Mayon's  cheeks  were  rosy  enough  now  with  blushes,  and  her 


240  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME  ;   OR, 

voice  had  all  the  tremor  in  it  that  Carlos  would  have  been 
glad  to  note  in  past  days. 

"  But,  Mayon,"  said  he,  "  if  you  have  never  thought  of  this, 
won't  you  think  of  it  now?  You  confess  that  you  love 
me  as  a  brother,  and  may  not  time  ripen  that  affection 
into  something  stronger?  At  least,  give  me  some  hope, 
Mayon ! " 

"  I  can't,  Carlos.  O,  do  try  to  forget  it  all  and  be  the 
same  to  me  as  before.  You  have  been  such  a  kind  brother 
to  me  I  feel  that  it  will  be  hard  to  lose  you,  but  I  am  sure 
if  I — if — if  I  ever  marr}^  I  must  love  very  differently  from 
this.  I  should  wrong  you  to  give  you  in  return  no  more 
affection  than  I  have  for  you." 

"But  I  could  win  your  love  in  time  I  do  believe,  for, 
Mayon,  I  would  be  so  kind  to  you.  I  would  devote  my 
whole  life  entirely  to  you.  I  will  wait,  0  so  patiently,  if  at 
last  you  will  be  mine.  Mayon,  dearest  Mayon,  let  me  ask 
you  again,  in  a  year — two  years  ?  " 

Mayon  became  very  sad  now.  It  wrung  her  heart  to  re- 
fuse this  passionate  plea  for  her  love,  and  she  was  tempted 
to  give  him  hojie.  But  she  felt  in  doing  so  she  would  be 
doing  wrong,  and  at  last  found  courage  to  utterly  refuse 
him.  "  O  please,  Carlos,"  said  she,  "  please  forgive  me  for 
wounding  you.  I  wish  it  might  be  so,  but  it  is  impossible. 
Please  do  not  blame  me  for  letting  you  come  to  this,  for  I 
never  suspected  it.  I  think  I  had  better  go  to  New  York 
now." 

"  No,  Mayon,  I  will  be  man  enough  not  to  trouble  you 
further ;  and  since  you  decide  against  my  suit,  we  will  again 
be  to  each  other  as  brother  and  sister,  and  we  will  try,  as 
you  say,  to  forget  all  this;  but,  Mayon,  in  spite  of  all  you 
say,  I  shall  hope  that  some  time  you  will  change.  It  is  not 
quite  impossible  that  some  time  you  may  know  that  your 
sisterly  love  has  changed  to  a  warmer  sentiment.     I  shall 


SACRIFICED  ON  THE  MORMON   ALTAR.  241 

comfort  myself  with  that  hope.  In  the  meantime  we  will 
try  to  be  happy  as  we  have  been." 

"  Shall  we  go  now,  Carlos  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Mayon,  and  we  will  come  again  to-morrow  and  at- 
tend more  closely  to  our  botanical  studies.  These  poor 
flowers  have  been  torn  to  pieces  as  my  hopes  have :  but 
Bee,  they  are  not  quite  destroyed,  neither  are  my  hopes." 

They  returned  to  the  house,  and  Mayon  spent  the  after- 
noon with  Jessie  as  usual.  But  before  her  head  rested  on 
its  pillow  she  had  confided  that  day's  experience  to  paper 
for  a  loving  mother's  eyes  to  read,  and  she  felt  more  tranquil 
and  happy.  But  though  Jessie  never  referred  to  the  subject 
she  felt  sure  she  knew  what  had  transpired,  for  she  seemed  a 
little  sorrowful  and  thoughtful,  though  not  one  whit  less  kind 
and  affectionate.  Carlos,  too,  did  not  abate  in  his  zeal  for 
Mayon's  happiness,  and  her  heart  was  touched.  As  matters 
stood  she  was  rather  glad  when  the  close  of  her  vacation 
drew  near,  and  she  returned  to  New  York  for  a  few  days  be- 
fore beginning  another  school  year. 

The  farewells  with  these  friends  and  the  greetings  of  her 
uncle's  household  were  hardly  over  when  Mayon  received  a 
short  letter  dated  at  Salt  Lake  City,  informing  her  that  her 
mother's  health  was  failing  rapidly,  and  that  if  she  cared  for 
her  as  a  daughter  should,  she  would  return  immediately,  for 
her  absence  was  a  source  of  much  suffering  to  her  mother. 
Said  the  writer  :  "  Mrs.  Northfield  is  not  fully  aware  of  her 
own  condition,  and  therefore  has  probably  refrained  from 
alarming  you,  or  requesting  you  to  return.  Trusting  that 
you  will  act  wisely  and  dutifully,  these  lines  are  penned  by  a 
friend."  The  writing  was  unfamiliar  and  no  name  was  signed 
to  the  letter,  but  Mayon's  heart  was  filled  with  fear  and  grief. 
"  0  my  poor  mother !  and  I  have  been  away  from  her  so 
long — more  than  two  years  since  we  parted.  It  is  just  like  her 
thoughtfulness,  to  keep  me  in  ignorance  of  her  suffering  that 
16 


242  ELDER   NORTHFIELd's   HOME  J   OR, 

I  might  not  be  troubled.  But  some  kind  friend  has  informed 
me,  and  instead  of  going  back  to  school  I  will  go  back  to 
my  mother,  and  remain  as  long  as  she  needs  me.  Perhaps 
(with  a  sigh)  I  shall  remain  all  m}^  life,  but  at  any  rate  I 
have  had  two  beautiful  years  of  life  in  the  world." 

Her  uncle  examined  the  letter  and  expressed  the  fear  that 
it  was  far  from  a  friendly  one,  but  written  with  the  purpose 
of  decoying  Mayon  into  Mormonism  again. 

Mayon  said  :  "  If  it  is  so,  I  can  come  back  again." 

''  But,"  said  her  uncle,  "  would  it  not  be  wise  to  w^ait  till 
you  can  write  and  hear  again  from  your  mother?  " 

"  O,  I  cannot  w^ait,  uncle !  See,  the  writer  says  she  is  fail- 
ing rapidly,  and  if  I  w^ait,  I  may  be  too  late.  My  poor 
mother  sick,  and  with  her  daughter  so  many  hundred  miles 
aw^ay !    I  feel  that  I  was  almost  cowardly  to  leave  her  at  all." 

"But,  Mayon,  I  feel  afraid  there  is  something  under- 
handed about  this.  Anonymous  letters  are  suspicious.  It 
will  only  require  a  few  days  to  settle  all  doubt." 

"  But  a  few  days  may  be  too  late.  The  letter  says  she  is 
rapidly  failing,  but  is  not  aware  of  her  own  condition.  That 
is  why  she  has  not  written  of  it  to  me ;  she  did  not  know  her 
real  condition  and  did  not  wish  to  alarm  me.  O,  uncle, 
please  do  not  refuse  your  consent  to  my  immediate  return 
to  my  mother.  Think  how  I  have  not  seen  her  for  two  long 
years,  and  what  if  she  should  die  with  no  Mayon  by  her 
Bide  and  I  should  never  see  her  again!  " 

"  But,  my  dear,  are  you  not  afraid  that  it  will  be  impossi- 
ble for  you  to  get  away  again  if  you  once  return  ?  " 

"No,  I  think  not,  for  mother  writes  that  father  feels 
very  different  now  towards  me;  and  even  if  I  never  leave 
Utah  again,  I  must  go  to  my  mother.  0,  uncle  Walter, 
please  let  me  go." 

"Well,  Mayon,  I  shall  not  refuse  you,  but  I  am  afraid  the 
writer  is  dealing  in  foul  play." 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    MORMON   ALTAR.  243 

"  No  one  could  do  such  a  cruel  thing  as  that.  I  think  some 
kind-hearted  person  has  written  for  mother's  sake  and  mine." 

The  separation  from  Mayon's  new  friends  was  entirely  un- 
locked for,  and  as  she  thought  that  possibly  it  might  be  a 
separation  for  life,  it  was  a  very  sad  one  to  them  all-.  There 
was  not  the  anguish  and  agony  of  fear,  however,  that  made 
Iier  separation  from  her  mother  so  terrible,  and  she  was  not 
fleeing  like  a  slave  or  criminal  now,  but  was  in  God's  free 
land,  and  could  leave  with  no  fear  of  molestation.  Sad 
thoughts  were  hers  concerning  the  giving  up  of  her  school 
life  and  departure  with  no  final  farewell  to  the  Winchesters, 
but  they  were  only  fleeting  thoughts,  for  her  heart  and  head 
were  too  full  of  anxiety  for  her  mother  and  preparations  for 
her  journey. 

Mrs.  Northfield  was  sitting  quietly  and  alone  in  her  little 
parlor  one  day  re-reading  Mayon's  last  letter,  written  on  the 
day  of  Carlos'  proposal  to  her.  She  laid  it  down  and  sat, 
with  eyes  closed,  thinking.  From  the  expression  of  her  face, 
though  there  was  a  look  of  longing  there,  her  thoughts  were 
evidently  not  unpleasant.  She  had  the  appearance  of  rest- 
ing in  mind  and  body.  There  was  a  quick,  nervous  peal  at 
the  door-bell.  Slie  started,  and  opening  the  door,  wonder- 
ingly  faltered, 

"  May  on,  Mayon,  can  this  be  you  !  " 

"  Mother !  mother  !  "  exclaimed  Mayon,  and  mother  and 
daughter  were  again  locked  in  each  other's  arms.  Again 
their  tears  mingled,  though  their  lips  refused  to  speak. 

"  You  are  better,  are  you  not,  dear  mother  ?  "  asked  Mayon 
as  soon  as  she  could  speak. 

"  Better  !     Wliat  do  you  mean,  my  child  ?  " 

"  Have  you  not  been  ill  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,  my  health  has  been  very  good  of  late — 
better  than  usual." 


244  ELDER   KORTHFIELD's   HOME;    OR, 

''0,  I  am  so  glad!  I  expected  to  find  you  sick,  perhaps 
dying.  That  is  why  I  am  here ;  but  I  am  glad  I  am  here 
after^all.  O,  mother,  the  years  have  been  long  when  I 
thought  of  you,  but  0  so  short  for  the  happiness  that  has 
been  crowded  into  them  !  " 

"  Thank  God  for  that,  my  darling  ;  but  why  did  you  think 
I  was  sick?" 

"Some  one  here  has  written  to  me,  saying  my  mother's 
health  was  failing  rapidly  and  advising  me  to  inmiediately 
return  to  her.  Uncle  was  right ;  some  one  has  deceived  me ; 
but  why  should  any  one  do  it?  " 

"  O,  Mayon,  I  almost  wish  you  had  not  come,  though  my 
heart  has  ached  with  my  lonehness,  and  I  am  so  happy  to 
see  the  face  I  feared  I  should  never  behold  again.  But  I 
fear  there  is  something  wrong  about  this— some  injury  con- 
templated towards  you." 

"  Can  it  be  that  my  father  had  anything  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  No,  Mayon.  I  am  so  happy  of  late  to  see  a  change  coming 
over  him,  especially  in  the  last  few  weeks.  I  think— I  do 
believe  that  in  time  he  will  see  the  error  of  his  whole  life 
and  apostatize.  Mayon,  I  believe  better  days  are  coming. 
Your  father  has  seen  so  much  dishonesty  and  avarice  in 
Brigham  Young  and  the  councillors  and  apostles,  and  so 
much  of  the  sad  results  of  polygamy,  that  I  think  his  faitli  is 
wavering.  He  does  not  say  much  on  the  subject,  but  I 
notice  he  does  not  attend  the  meetings  as  regularly  as  he  has 
done,  and  he  is  studying  the  Bible  a  great  deal.  Thus, 
Mayon,  what  has  affected  his  personal  interests  has  affected 
his' faith  somewhat.  Some  of  the  most  religious  men  of  the 
church,— men  in  whom  he  has  always  had  great  faith,— have 
by  their  dishonesty  been  the  means  of  the  loss  of  so  much 
money  to  him  that  he  was  fearful  his  whole  ])usiness  would 
-be  swamped.  I  have  been  waiting  to  see  how  the  affair 
came  out  before  writing  to  you  about  it;  but  though  all  were 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  245 

lost,  and  we  became  penniless,  I  could  rejoice  if  it  were  the 
means  of  opening  up  the  way  to  our  freedom  from  this  re- 
ligion." 

"That  will  be  a  joyful  day  if  it  ever  comes,"  said  Mayon ; 
"  and,  mother,  how  will  father  receive  me?  I  have  dreaded 
to  meet  him,  but  perhaps  if  he  is  so  changed  he  will  receive 
me  kindly." 

"  I  think  he  will,  for  he  has  been  quite  lonely  since  Nell 
was  married." 

Nell  had  been  married  a  few  months  previous,  and  was 
the  third  wife  of  a  still  quite  young  man.  She  was  yet  his 
reigning  favorite,  and  still  looked  with  favor  on  Mormonism 
with  all  its  institutions.  She  had  yet  to  learn  that  she  was 
only  the  plaything  of  the  hour,  to  be  thrust  aside  as  a  child 
thrusts  aside  a  toy  that  has  given  him  great  delight,  for  a 
newer  and  more  attractive  one. 

Mrs.  Northfield's  happiness  had  not  been  lessened  by 
Nell's  departure,  for  she  had  never  been  a  source  of  pleasure 
to  her,  but  very  many  times  the  reverse.  Forest  was  away 
from  the  city  preaching  in  some  of  the  smaller  settlements, 
and  the  house  was  quite  lonely,  though  Marion  did  not  feel 
the  loneliness  as  she  would  but  for  her  happiness  at  hope  of 
a  change  in  her  husband  and  her  pleasure  in  her  daughter's 
happy  life  and  prospects. 

She  noticed  with  joy  that  a  great  change  had  come  over 
Mayon  in  two  years.  She  was  now  so  happy  and  buoyant, 
in  contrast  to  her  former  depressed  manner.  Her  face  had 
lost  its  look  of  fear  and  dread,  and  her  eyes  shone  with  a 
new  light.  Her  mind  had  become  stored  with  knowledge  in 
many  departments.  The  same  vigorous  health  was  still  hers, 
and  her  mother  felt  that  two  years  of  absence  had  but  added 
so  much  of  beauty,  cultivation  and  goodness  to  her  child. 
They  talked  of  Edith,  who  was  still  in  the  country  earning 
her  own  livelihood,  of  Elsie  and  her  family,  of  Nell,  and  of 


246  ELDER   NORTHFIELD  S   HOME  ;    OR, 

Flora  and  her  friends.  There  was  so  much  to  he  said  of  the 
occurrences  of  two  years  that  hours  fled  unheeded  by  them 
both.     At  last  the  father's  footstep  was  heard  in  the  hall. 

"0,  let  me  hide,  mother,  till  you  have  told  him  I  am 
here,"  said  Mayon,  and  she  started  to  leave  the  room  ;  but  as 
she  opened  the  door  at  one  side  of  the  room,  her  father  en- 
tered at  the  other. 

He  stopped  short  at  sight  of  Mayon,  in  bewildered  aston- 
ishment.    Mayon  turned  back  to  lier  father  and  said : 

"  Father,  have  you  forgiven  me  ?  " 

"Forgiven  you!  Yes,  my  child,  I  have  forgiven  you. 
Have  you  forgiven  me  ?  " 

"  0,  yes,  father,  with  all  my  heart." 

Then  he  folded  Mayon  close  in  his  strong  arms,  and  both 
felt  that  they  were  in  loving  sympathy  as  they  never  were 
before.  The  mother  witnessed  their  meeting  with  a  heart 
overflowing  with  joy.  Happiness  was  at  last  coming  into 
her  life  after  many  years. 

"  Now,  Mayon,  how  came  you  here,  and  why  did  you  at- 
tempt to  run  away  from  me  a  second  time?  " 

"  I  only  meant  to  give  mother  a  chance  to  tell  you  I  was 
here  before  you  met  me.  I  confess  I  did  not  think  you 
would  be  so  glad  to  see  me." 

"  But  I  am,  my  daughter,  very  glad  indeed.  I  think  I 
was  a  little  mistaken  with  regard  to  my  ideas  of  duty.  I 
think  now  that  each  one  should  be  allowed  to  follow  the 
dictates  of  his  or  her  own  conscience,  and  I  regret  that  I 
■book  it  upon  myself  to  decide  and  determine  upon  your 
course,  but  I  thought  I  was  doing  what  was  for  the  best  at 
the  time." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,  father,  and  it  has  resulted,  I  hope,  in 
no  harm." 

"  But,  ]\Iayon,  you  have  not  told  me  why  you  came  back 
to  us  so  unexpectedly." 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  247 

Then  Mayon  gave  an  account  of  the  letter,  and  handed  it 
<jO  him  to  read.  As  he  read  he  grew  serious  and  his  brow 
darkened. 

"  I  am  afraid  there  is  something  evil  in  this,"  said  he. 
"  The  leaders  were  all  very  much  stirred  up  at  your  de- 
parture, or  apostatizing  as  they  call  it,  and  Brigham  Young 
in  particular,  as  he  had  interested  himself  enough  in  your 
case  to  call  upon  5^ou  and  counsel  you.  Ellis  was  very  much 
chagrined  and  disappointed,  but  said  had  he  any  idea  you 
were  so  much  opposed  to  his  acceptance  he  would  have  with- 
drawn his  suit.  I  received  many  expostulations  for  not  pur- 
suing 3^ou,  and  there  was  even  talk  of  attempt  among  them- 
selves to  get  you  back  by  some  means ;  but  I  warned  them 
not  to  interfere  with  my  affairs,  and  Ellis  did  the  same  (for 
he  is  an  honorable  man),  and  then  they  charged  me  with 
conniving  at  your  escape.  They  accused  me  of  being  next 
door  to  apostasy ;  but  after  a  time  the  storm  blew  over  and  I 
have  heard  nothing  on  the  subject  for  a  long  time.  But  this 
letter  looks  as  though  thc}^  had  not  forgotten  it,  and  were 
attemj^ting  to  get  you  back  into  Mormonism  again." 

"  But,  father,  there  is  no  danger  that  they  can  keep  me 
here,  is  there  ?  I  can  step  on  the  train  any  time,  you  know, 
and  go  to  New  York." 

"  No,  they  cannot  force  you  to  stay.  When  you  wish  to 
return  to  New  York,  you  shall  do  so,  if  I  have  to  go  with  you 
to  protect  you." 

Certainly  her  father  had  changed,  and  that  wonderfully; 
and  Mayon  was  quite  happy  at  thought  of  the  possibility 
of  his  accompanying  her  out  of  Mormonism. 

"  Marion,"  said  Elder  Northfield  to  his  wife,  "  who  can  be 
the  author  of  this  letter,  and  what  does  it  mean  ?  " 

"I  think,"  said  she,  "it  is  only  an  attempt  to  decoy  Mayon 
back  again,  with  the  hope  that  she  will  remain.  You  know 
they  fear  the  influence  of  apostates  in  the  Gentile  world, 


248  ELDER  NORTHFIELD's  HOME;  OR, 

particular!}^  educated  persons.  And  they  may  know  of  the 
course  of  study  she  is  pursuing.  But  there  can  no  harm 
come  from  it,  for  Mayon  can  never  be  persuaded  to  become 
a  Mormon,  so  let  us  not  give  ourselves  any  uneasiness  con- 
cerning the  letter." 

"  No,  we  will  not  trouble  ourselves ;  but  I  shall  quietly 
endeavor  to  discover  the  rascal  who  wrote  it." 

Mayon  was  now  home  again — home,  even  though  it  was 
in  the  midst  of  the  iniquity  and  superstition  of  Mormonism. 
Here  all  her  childhood  days  had  been  spent,  and  here  all 
tender  memories  of  the  past  centred.  Again  she  was  with 
her  dearly  beloved  mother,  and  the  barrier  was  broken  down 
between  her  and  her  father.  For  the  last  years  of  her  life 
at  home  she  had  hidden  in  her  bosom  a  secret  from  him— a 
secret  jealously  guarded,  and  from  its  nature  it  instigated  a 
feeling  of  defiance  towards  him.  This  was  all  gone  now,  and 
complete  confidence  was  restored  between  them.  Mayon 
now  began  to  regard  her  sojourn  in  the  city  as  a  visit,  for 
her  mother  insisted  on  her  return  to  her  school  in  a  few 
weeks.  The  term  had  now  begun,  but  Mayon  had  brought 
her  books,  and  as  well  as  she  could,  without  her  teacher,  she 
continued  in  her  studies.  She  went  with  her  mother  to  see 
Nell  in  her  new  home,  and  was  received  quite  cordially. 
She  was  established  in  a  fine  house,  but  it  was  cursed  like 
most  houses  there  with  polygamy.  One  of  the  first  wives 
entered  the  room,  and  was  presented  to  Mrs.  Northfield  and 
Mayon.  She  seemed  to  be  in  no  very  amiable  mood,  and 
soon  left  the  room. 

"  Eliza  has  the  sulks  worse  than  ever  to-day,"  said  Nell. 
"  She  and  Mary  are  very  jealous  of  me,  but  that  does  not 
trouble  me  at  all.  I  know  they  cannot  harm  me;  they  have 
had  their  day,  and  ought  to  be  wilHng  that  I  should  have 
mine  now.  Are  you  not  tired  of  Gentile  Mfe,  and  come  back 
to  remain  now,  Mayon  ?  " 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  249 

"No,  Nell,  I  shall  return  in  a  few  weeks.  I  am  only 
making  a  visit." 

"  Forest's  prophecy  does  not  seem  to  be  fulfilled  with  re- 
gard to  your  marrying  a  Mormon — I  mean  the  prophecy  he 
made  the  day  we  three  quarrelled  so  about  Alice  Clark's 
marriage." 

"  No,  Nell,  I  am  of  the  same  determination  that  I  was 
then.  But,  speaking  of  Alice  Clark — how  and  where  is 
she?" 

"  0,  she  is  dead.  The  other  wives  led  her  a  wretched  life, 
and  during  a  quarrel  between  them  Alice  fell  down  the 
stairs,  and  died  soon  after  from  her  injuries.  She  had  not 
the  faculty  for  getting  along  with  them,  as  I  do  with  my  hus- 
band's wives.     I  have  no  trouble." 

May  on  felt  a  lack  of  sisterly  love  for  Nell,  as  she  conversed 
with  her,  and  they  did  not  remain  long,  but  went  to  the  home 
of  Carrie — Elder  Parker's  now  deserted  wife. 

She  had  taken  a  smaller  house  and  had  to  nearly  support 
herself.  Francis,  Edith's  brother,  had  now  a  wife  and  two 
children.  Edith  had  left  for  him,  at  the  time  of  her  flight, 
an  affectionate  letter,  urging  him  to  discard  Mormonism,  and 
be  guided  by  the  teachings  of  their  mother,  and  follow  her 
into  the  Gentile  world.  She  enclosed  a  farewell  letter  to 
Carrie,  who  had  been  like  a  mother  to  her.  Francis  was  a 
Mormon,  more  through  the  force  of  circumstances  than  from 
heartfelt  faith  in  its  teachings.  Polygamy  he  looked  upon 
with  disfavor,  and  had  no  intention  of  practising  it.  He  was 
well  situated  pecuniarily,  and  did  not  contemplate  entering 
the  Gentile  world,  though  his  mother's  early  teachings  and 
Bufferings  had  made  too  deep  an  impression  upon  his  mind 
to  give  him  any  religious  zeal.  Carrie  never  had  any  chil- 
dren, and  was  a  lonely  and  sad  woman,  though  Francis  did 
not  neglect  her,  but  with  his  wife  and  children  were  her 
devoted  friends.    Elder  Parker  was  again  on  a  mission  to 


250  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

England,  but  it  made  little  difference  to  Carrie  where  he  was. 
There  had  always  been  a  bond  of  sympathy  between  Marion 
and  Carrie  since  they  emigrated  in  each  other's  company. 
Marion  had  gone  out  more  since  Edith  and  Mayon  left  her, 
and  a  firmer  friendship  was  established  between  them. 
Mayon  promised  to  visit  Carrie  again,  and  t-hey  returned 
home. 

Mayon  felt  that,  though  she  had  entered  her  cage  again — 
the  cage  of  Mormonism— yet  she  was  not  secured  in  it,  and 
was  free  to  take  her  flight  at  any  moment.  So  she  breathed 
freely,  and  the  days  passed  very  happily,  although  the  sor- 
rows of  polygamy  touched  her  with  a  new  sympathy:  for 
she  had  been  in  the  world  and  enjoyed  its  happy  domestic 
relations,  and  the  contrast  only  brought  before  her  mind 
more  vividly  the  miseries  of  her  native  land.  One  day,  after 
she  had  been  very  thoughtful  on  this  subject,  she  said : 

"  Mother,  you  know  the  Gentiles  are  sending  missionaries 
to  foreign  countries  to  enlighten  and  convert  the  heathen  ill- 
treated  women.  I  have  often  wondered  why  they  never  think 
of  sending  missionaries  to  convert  the  poor  women  here,  for 
many  believe  that  polygamy  is  right,  and  those  who  do  not 
are  so  forced  to  submission  and  ignorance  that  they  do  not 
think  escape  possible.  Now,  what  is  needed  is  that  en- 
lightened women  go  quietly  among  the  women  here  and  tell 
them  of  the  love  of  Jesus,  show  them  the  right  religion,  and 
persuade  them  to  leave  Mormonism  ;  and  there  should  be  a 
society  to  aid  them  with  funds  to  leave.  Why  does  the 
nation  send  such  generous  supplies  for  the  heathen  in  the 
old  world,  and  let  the  heathen  in  their  midst  continue  in 
their  ignorance  and  debasement?  " 

"  I  do  not  wonder  you  ask,  Mayon,  for  if  ever  missionary 
work  was  needed,  it  is  here;  but  a  missionary  would  perhaps 
meet  with  worse  persecution  here  than  in  many  so-called 
heathen  countries,  for  here  an  attack  upon  the  religion  is  an 


SACRIFICED  ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  251 

attack  upon  the  government.  Brigham  Young's  t3'rannical 
rule  is  accomplished  only  through  his  influence  on  his  sub- 
jects' religious  sensibilities.  Otherwise  this  bondage  would 
be  impossible  in  free  America." 

"  Mother,  let  me  tell  you  what  I  have  been  thinking  of. 
I  want  to  try  to  help  some  poor  souls  out  of  this  bondage. 
Why  can  I  not,  in  a  limited  sense,  become  such  a  mission- 
ary, and  try  to  persuade  some  of  the  young  girls  here  to 
renounce  Mormonism  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  a  noble  work,  my  dear,  but  a  dangerous  one. 
Our  family  has  called  down  so  much  indignation  from  the 
Church  that  I  dare  not  risk  the  enterprise." 

"  But  I  would  w^ork  very  cautiously  and  secretly,  and, 
mother,  ought  I  not  to  try  to  give  something  to  others,  when 
so  much  has  been  given  to  me?  " 

"  If  I  dared,  Mayon,  I  would  bid  you  God-speed,  and  hope 
for  some  good  accomplished." 

"  You  know,  mother,  that  even  if  the  authorities  became 
aw^are  of  it  and  attempted  to  trouble  me,  I  would  only  have 
to  leave  for  New  York.  I  ran  away  once;  I  can  again,  if 
need  be.  All  I  should  fear  would  be  the  anger  of  Brigham 
Young  and  the  rest  against  you  and  father,  if  I  should  be  so 
fortunate  as  to  make  any  apostates." 

"  You  need  not  fear  for  us,  Mayon,  and  I  have  half  a  mind 
to  bid  you  begin  your  missionary  work,  if  you  will  promise 
to  be  very  discreet  and  cautious." 

"  Then,  mother,  I  will  go  to-day  and  find  some  of  the  girls 
I  used  to  know,  and  try  to  open  the  way  to  the  accomplish- 
ing of  my  purpose." 

So  Mayon  began  a  work  which,  though  at  first  unknown, 
unsuspected  even  by  those  she  strove  to  influence,  at  last  led 
to  the  deliverance  of  a  few  fair  young  women  from  the  lives 
of  sorrow  their  mothers  had  lived.  As  no  opposition  was 
made,  and  apparently  no  notice  taken  of  her  quiet  talks  with 


252  ELDER   NORTHFIELd's   HOME  ;    OR, 

the  women,  of  Gentile  life  and  religion,  Avithout  any  reference 
to  her  object  of  accomplishing  their  apostasy,  she  began  to 
feel  confident  that  she  would  be  undisturbed. 

There  was  a  Gentile  by  the  name  of  Demming,  who  had 
recently  come  into  the  city  and  opened  a  store.  He  made 
himself  acquainted  with,  and  agreeable  to  Mr.  Northfield,  and 
the  latter  invited  him  to  his  house,  thinking  Mayon  would  en- 
joy his  society,  particularly  as  he  was  from  New  York  city. 
Demming  gladly  accepted  the  invitation,  and  he  proved  a 
very  agreeable  acquaintance.  He  was  a  fine  singer,  and  Mr. 
Northfield  and  his  wife  enjoyed  their  songs  and  their  con- 
versation concerning  the  Gentile  world  as  much  as  they  did. 
He  became  a  frequent  visitor,  but,  though  Mayon  could  not 
tell  why,  she  began  to  tire  of  him,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that 
there  was  a  lack  of  frankness  and  honesty  in  his  character. 
His  eyes  would  drop  as  they  met  her  clear  gaze,  and  she  felt 
that  he  was  not  quite  to  be  trusted. 


SACRIFICED  ON  THE  MORMON  ALTAB.  253 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THUS  matters  stood,  when  Mayon  received  a  most  un- 
expected  visit.  Her  mother  called  her  one  day  to  meet 
a  friend  in  the  parlor.  She  entered  the  room  and  beheld  a 
girl  apparently  about  her  own  age,  clad  in  a  rather  shabby 
dress  and  bonnet.  Her  face  was  very  thin  and  sad.  Her 
large  gray  eyes  were  sunken  and  her  hands  extremely  ema- 
ciated, and  trembling  violently.  Mayon  stood  regarding  her 
for  a  second,  trying  to  recollect  where  she  had  seen  those 
features  before.  The  slender  girl  stretched  her  arms  toward 
Mayon,  saying:  "  0  Mayon  !  Mayon  !  don't  you  know  me?  " 

"  Flora,  can  this  be  you  ?  "  exclaimed  Mayon.  Flora  would 
have  fallen  to  the  floor,  but  Mayon  caught  her,  and  with  her 
strength  it  was  an  easy  task  to  lift  the  light  form  of  her 
friend  and  carry  her  to  the  sofa.  She  had  fainted,  and  now 
Mrs.  Northfield  entered,  and  together  they  soon  succeeded 
in  restoring  her.  Then  followed  exclamations  of  love,  sur- 
prise and  joy,  not  unmingled  with  pity  at  Flora's  feeble 
condition. 

''Why  have  you  never  written  to  us,  my  dear?  "asked 
Mrs.  Northfield. 

"  I  could  not.  I  was  preveiited,  and  if  I  could,  I  had 
noticing  but  misery  to  write.  0,  Mayon !  would  to  God  I 
had  listened  to  your  pleading  and  gone  back  to  my  father. 
I  received  a  letter  from  you,  Mrs.  Northfield,  saying  Mayon 
had  seen  my  family,  and  containing  messages  from  my 
mother  and  from  Jessie  and  the  boys.  I  read  your  letter, 
and  began  to  read  their  messages  when  my  husband  entered 


254  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's    HOME;    OR, 

and  snatched  tlie  letter  away  from  me,  reading  it,  and  then 
tearing  it  in  pieces  before  my  eyes.  He  also  destroyed  a 
letter  I  received  a  year  ago  from  my  father.  That,  however, 
I  had  not  opened,  but  was  passionately  kissing  the  super- 
scription, which  I  knew  to  be  my  father's  writing.  I  knew 
that  he  had  forgiven  me,  and  wished  to  take  me  back,  and 
was  so  happ3%  when  suddenly  it  was  seized  from  me  and 
thrown  into  the  fire.  I  attempted  to  rescue  it  and  in  doing 
so  burned  m}^  hand  terribly." 

"  0,  Flora,  my  poor,  dear  Flora ! " 

*'  Now,  Mayon,  I  found  out  that  you  w^ere  here,  and  have 

w^alked  all  the  way  from  L to  meet  you  and  hear  from 

my  mother  and  the  rest.  I  am  so  glad  you  have  found  them. 
Kow  tell  me  all  about  them." 

And  Mayon  told  Flora  all  she  wished  to  know  about  her 
father,  mother,  sister  and  brothers,  not  omitting  her  talk  with 
Mr.  AVinchester  concerning  Mormonism,  which  both  agreed 
was  the  cause  of  his  writing  to  his  daughter  immediately 
after.  Flora  seemed  overjoyed  at  hearing  from  them  all 
again,  and  then  Maj'on  asked  her  to  tell  them  of  her  life 
since  she  left  the  city. 

She  sighed,  and  said :  "  There  is  not  a  great  deal  to  tell. 

"We  went  first  to  M ,  and  there  my  husband  left  me  to 

hold  some  meetings  in  a  town  a  few  miles  away.  He  at  first 
wrote  to  me  frequentl}',  but,  after  a  time,  I  heard  from  him 
very  seldom.  Finally  he  came  home  and  said  he  was  going 
to  take  another  wife.  It  seems  that  one  of  his  converts,  as 
I  had  done,  had  fallen  in  love  with  him,  and,  as  he  returned 
her  sentiment,  they  were  to  be  married.  Mayon,  thank  God 
you  never  can  know  what  I  sufi'ered,  for  you  are  free — free 
as  I  once  was  ;  but  you,  ^Irs.  Northfield,  know^  something 
about  it,  though  you  do  not  knovv^  wdiat  it  is  to  sufier  from 
the  cruelty  of  a  husband  as  I  did.  All  his  love  seemed  gone 
from  me,  and  at  sight  of  mj^  tears  he  would  become  very 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  255 

angry  and  say  the  most  cruel  things.  When  I  begged  him 
to  be  kind  to  me  and  love  me  again,  he  turned  from  me 
rudely  and  told  me  not  to  be  silly.  I  then  thought  and 
spoke  of  leaving  him  and  going  to  my  mother,  and  asking 
her  to  take  me  in  and  let  me  die  with  her,  for  I  did  not  think 
I  should  live  long,  my  health  was  so  poor.  Then  he  raved 
at  me  again,  and  told  me  that  there  had  been  one  Mormon 
runaway  girl,  and  bade  me  not  to  dare  try  to  follow  my 
friend's  example,  for  he  would  surely  thwart  my  plans,  and 
I  knew  he  would.  Soon  after  that  my  father's  letter  came, 
and  probably  no  one  but  he  knew  what  its  contents  were. 
My  husband  threatened  me  if  I  attempted  to  write  to  my 
friends,  and  said  he  should  take  means  to  prevent  any  letters 
from  passing  through  the  mails.  I  think  he  was  afraid  to 
have  me  leave  and  go  where  I  might  expose  his  cruelty. 

AVe  soon  moved  from  M to  A ,  and  then  he  brought 

his  wife  there.  How  I  hated  them  both,  and  I  think  they 
hated  me  too!  It  seemed  to  me  tha^ I  should  go  insane. 
My  bab}'  was  born  soon  after  that." 

"  Your  baby.  Flora !  have  you  a  baby  ?  " 

"  No,  not  now.  She  is  dead,"  and  Flora  could  not  go  on 
for  the  tears  choked  lier  so.  "  In  a  few  months  my  husband 
went  away  preaching  again,  and  he  took  his  new  wife  with 
him.  I  was  glad  of  this,  and  now  I  had  my  little  Jessie  to 
love,  and  to  love  me ;  but  my  husband  left  me  but  a  little 
money,  promising  to  send  me  some  when  I  needed  it.  He 
did  not  send  it,  however,  and  baby  and  I  suffered  from 
hunger  and  cold.  Then  Jessie  fell  sick  with  fever,  and 
tliough  I  wrote  to  her  father  for  help,  yet  without  the  assist- 
ance of  my  neighbors,  who  learned  how  I  was  situated,  I  fear 
we  should  have  starved.  But  tliough  Jessie  did  not  actually 
starve  to  death,  she  was  killed  by  the  want  and  cold  her 
father's  neglect  caused  us.  I  could  not  weep  or  mourn 
when  my  darling  baby  lay  cold  and  stiff  in  my  arms.     I 


256  ELDER   NORTHFIELd's   HOME  ;   OR, 

felt  that  God  had  mercifully  taken  her  away  from  her  suf- 
fering. The  day  after  she  died  the  undertaker  came  with  a 
beautiful  casket  and  a  quantity  of  the  loveliest  flowers.  I 
thought  there  had  been  some  mistake,  but  the  man  was 
positive  that  this  was  the  place  to  which  a  gentleman  had 
ordered  him  to  bring  them.  I  tried  to  learn  who  my  bene- 
factor was,  but  could  learn  nothing.  After  my  child  was 
buried  I  was  sick,  and  a  strange  woman  came  and  nursed 
me  well,  and  a  physician  attended  me  faithfully.  I  tried  to 
find  who  had  employed  them,  but  they  would  only  tell  me 
some  one  who  knew  of  my  need  had  provided  for  me.  At 
last  I  became  able  to  be  about  my  house  again,  and  as  my 
physician  made  his  last  call  upon  me  he  put  some  money 
into  my  hands,  saying  it  was  from  my  unknown  friend,  and 
he  hoped  it  would  supply  all  my  wants  till  my  husband  re- 
turned. I  can  only  wonder  who  my  friend  was,  but  God 
knows,  and  He  will  reward  him.  I  could  worship  him  if  I 
could  find  him.  My  husband  and  his  Avife  came  soon  after 
that,  and  he  seemed*surprised  and  sorry,  I  think,  to  find  our 
baby  was  dead,  and  he  was  not  quite  so  unkind  to  me.     A 

few  weeks  ago  we  moved  to  L ,  only  four  miles  from  here, 

and  it  was  from  listening,  a  few  days  ago,  to  a  conversation 
between  him  and  some  elder  from  the  city,  who  had  come 
out  to  see  him,  that  I  learned  you  were  here.  And  I  came, 
not  only  to  hear  from  my  friends,  but  to  tell  you,  Mayon,  of 
the  plot  that  is  working,  as  they  think  to  their  satisfaction, 
to  keep  you  in  Mormonism." 

Mayon  gave  a  frightened  start,  but  Flora  said : 

"  Never  fear,  however ;  I  have  found  it  out  in  time  to  save 
you." 

"What  do  you  mean.  Flora? "said  Mrs.  Northficld,  ex- 
citedly. 

"  First,  Mayon,"  said  Flora,  "tell  me  truly,  are  you  going 
to  marry  Mr.  Demming?'* 


-~  SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  257 

"Marry  Mr.  Dcmming!     No,  never!" 

"  1  am  so  glad  of  that,  for  he  is  not  a  Gentile,  as  he  repre- 
sents himself  to  be.  He  became  a  Mormon  a  few  3'ears  ago, 
and  is  now  acting  the  part  of  an  impostor  to  you.  The 
elders  are  seeking  to  ruin  you  by  bringing  about  a  mar- 
riage with  this  man,  and  when  your  fate  becomes  irrevoc- 
ably fixed,  he  is  to  throw  off  his  Gentile  cloak  and  you  are 
to  find  yourself  the  wife  of  a  Mormon.  0,  Mayon,  it  is  too 
horrible  to  be  true,  yet  it  is  true.  And  I  heard  them  con- 
gratulating themselves  that  you  had  fallen  into  their  net; 
was  delighted  with  the  young  Gentile  merchant,  and  there 
was  no  doubt  that  you  would  marry  him  soon.  I  learned 
that  even  his  store  was  stocked  by  the  church  funds  to  give 
him  influence  with  you  and  your  parents.  It  was  a  scheme 
of  their  own,  from  the  writing  of  the  anon3mious  letter  to  this 
day,  and  they  thought  it  was  working  admirably.  They 
said,  '  Even  Northfield  himself  docs  not  suspect  the  trick, 
and  soon  our  fair  apostate  will  be  withdrawn  from  the  Gen- 
tile world  for  life.'  0  how  my  blood  ran  cold  as  I  heard 
their  diabolical  plans  and  feared  you  had  fallen  into  their 
snare  and  given  your  heart  to  this  man ! " 

"  Thank  God  she  did  not,"  said  Mrs.  Northfield.  "  We 
have  regarded  young  Demming  as  a  very  pleasant  acquaint- 
ance, however,  particularly  as  he  was  a  Gentile,  but  they  are 
mistaken  in  supposing  there  is  any  entanglement  with 
Mayon." 

"  Then  the  plot  would  have  fiiiled  at  last,  but  I  feared  it 
would  not." 

"  Darling  Flora,  how  I  thank  3^ou  !  Had  it  been  as  you 
feared,  you  would  have  saved  me  from  a  fate  worse  than 
death." 

''Yes,  much  worse  than  death,"  answered  Flora;  "you 
think  so,  I  know  so." 

"And,  Flora,  if  you  will  consent,  you  shall  be  saved  from 
17 


258  KINDER  northfield's  home  ;  OR, 

it,  too.     When  I  go  East  again,  you  must  go  with  me  ;  and 
0,  how  happy  your  father's  wliolc  family  would  be !  " 

"No,  Mayon,  it  will  not  make  them  happy  to  have  me 
come  back  such  as  I  am  now,  and  I  could  not  bear  to  go. 
Thoughts  of  my  wasted,  ruined  life  would  torment  me  more 
there  than  here.  I  do  not  think  I  shall  live  ver}^  long,  and 
I  had  rather  remain  here  the  little  while  I  do  live,  and  be 
buried  by  the  side  of  my  little  Jessie.  I  think  my  return 
home  would  give  rise  to  such  sadness  there  that  they  would 
never  be  the  same  again.  I  have  made  them  wretched 
enough,  and  do  not  deserve  to  be  taken  to  their  home  in  my 
last  few  miserable  days.  I  will  patiently  remain  here  now 
till  death  comes,  and  then  I  shall  find  rest.  I  think  God 
will  forgive  my  errors,  and  mercifully  give  me  peace  and 
perha})s  happiness  at  last." 

No  effort  of  Mayon  or  her  mother  could  persuade  Flora 
to  abandon  her  purpose,  and  so  at  last  they  talked  of  other 
things,  principally  of  affairs  at  the  East.  Toward  night  they 
procured  a  carriage  and  drove  Flora  to  her  home,  or  as  near 
there  as  she  dared  have  them  seen,  for  she  did  not  wish  her 
husband  to  learn  where  she  had  been. 

And  this  was  the  wreck  of  that  once  happy,  lovely  girl ! 
This  was  one  of  Mormonism's  victims,  and  still  that  curse  is 
allowed  to  blight  our  country,  and  the  young,  the  fair,  the 
innocent  are  sacrificed  to  its  superstitious  ordinances. 

Mr.  Northfield  regretted  that  he  had  not  been  at  home  to 
meet  Flora,  for  he  was  much  attached  to  her,  and  very  in- 
dignant when  he  learned  that  Elder  Burnside  had  proved  to 
be  so  inhuman.  That  knowledge,  however,  was  one  more 
addition  to  the  tide  of  influences  which  were  carrying  him 
slowly  but  surely  towards  a  renunciation  of  his  life-long 
faith.  Still  more  was  he  influenced  and  angered  by  the  dis- 
covery of  the  base  deception  that  had  been  practiced  upon* 
him  and  his  daughter.     He  had  tried  in  vain  to  ascertain 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  259 

the  source  of  the  letter  to  Mayon,biit  at  last  the  mystery  was 
solved.  But  a  life-long  faith — a  faith  which  had  become  a 
part  of  himself — was  not  to  be  easily  uprooted.  A  gigantic 
tree  may  become  unsound ;  it  may  be  shaken  to  its  roots ; 
it  may  sway  and  totter  in  the  wind ;  but  it  takes  a  mighty 
power  to  uproot  it  entirely.  So  a  faith  established  and 
strengthened  with  the  growth  of  many  years — almost  a  life- 
time of  years — was  not  to  totter  and  fall  at  inferior  attacks. 
The  attitude  of  the  Northfield  family  towards  young  Dem- 
ming  was  materially  changed  now,  and  though  they  judged 
it  best  not  to  make  their  discovery  known,  both  for  Mayon's 
safety  and  for  Flora's,  yet  when  Demming  again  called  he 
met  with  a  cool  reception,  and  soon  his  visits  ceased.  Mr. 
Northfield  feared  that  if  the  Mormons  knew  of  the  failure 
and  discovery  of  their  scheme,  they  would  attenipt  some 
other  form  of  intrigue,  and  Mayon,  for  safety,  would  be 
obliged  to  shorten  her  stay  there.  He  also  feared  that  by 
some  means  Flora  would  become  implicated,  and  that  the 
result  would  be  fresh  trouble  for  her.  It  soon  became  evi- 
dent, how^ever,  to  the  conspirators  and  the  principal  actor  in 
the  plot — who  had  become  very  much  interested  personally 
by  this  time — that  their  scheme  w^as  a  failure,  and  they  were 
very  much  enraged. 

Mayon's  missionary  work  had  progressed  and  increased, 
and  now  bid  fair  to  bear  fruit,  for  she  had  persuaded  several 
women,  mostly  young,  to  contemplate  privately  leaving  the 
Alormons,  in  her  company.  They  w^ere  necessarily  from  the 
few  families  where  money  for  travelling  expenses  could  be 
obtained  by  stealth  or  the  sale  of  valuables.  They  trusted 
that  they  should  be  able  to  find  employment  in  the  Gentile 
world,  and  Mayon  hoped  that  her  uncle  in  New  York  would 
be  able  to  assist  them  in  that  direction.  The  authorities  of 
the  Church,  of  course,  were  not  aware  of  the  extent  of  Mayon's 
influence  over  some  of  their  women,  but  they  were  not  so 


260  ELDER   ^'0RTIIFIELD'S   HOME  ;   OR, 

ignorant  and  unmindful  of  her  doings  as  she  supposed.  She 
would  not  have  been  allowed  to  continue  her  visits  and  t.ilks 
against  I>Iornionism  and  in  favor  of  Gentilism,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  security  they  felt  that  her  days  of  liberty  would 
be  few.  '•  Let  her  work,"  they  said,  "she  can  do  no  harm, 
for  she  is  surely  failing  into  the  net  we  have  prepared  for 
her,  and  will  soon  find  herself  a  devoted  Mormon  woman  by 
virtue  of  necessity,  instead  of  the  Gentile  seducer  of  our 
women  that  she  now  is."  Elder  Northfield  was  deceived  as 
well  as  his  daughter,  for  he  was  known  to  be  quite  in  sym- 
pathy with  her  now,  and  they  were  fearing  he  would  apos- 
tatize. Forest,  they  felt,  was  their  stronghold  in  that  family, 
for  he  was  still  as  devoted  as  ever  in  proclaiming  his  faith 
about  the  Territory,  but  he  was  ignorant  of  what  was  trans- 
piring at  his  home.  After  it  was  known  that  Demming  had 
failed  to  accomplish  his  purpose,  Mayon's  enemies  no  longer 
looked  with  unconcern  and  leniency  upon  her  missionary 
labors.  A  stir  was  now  made,  and  one  of  the  apostles  went 
to  many  houses  where  Mayon  had  been  known  to  visit,  and 
commanded  the  women  not  to  allow  her  to  enter  their  homes 
again.  Then  one  of  the  women  whom  Mayon  had  persuaded 
to  renounce  Mormonism  was  seized  with  a  panic  of  fear; 
and,  conscience-stricken,  because  of  her  infidelity  to  her  re- 
ligion, she  exposed  the  scheme,  and  thus  all  were  thwarted 
in  their  plans  to  escape,  though  several  were  permanently 
converted  to  Gentilism,  and  in  after  years  apostatized. 

Brigham  Young  himself  visited  j\Ir.  Korthfield  at  his  place 
of  business  and  angrily  accused  him  of  apostacy,  saying, 
"If  you  do  not  keep  your  daughter  at  home,  I  will  not  be 
answ^'erablc  for  her  safety.  All  good  Mormons  are  rightly 
very  indignant  at  her  attempt  to  make  our  women  turn 
traitor  to  their  friends  and  their  religion,  as  she  has  done. 
The  public  feeling  is  that  no  punishment  could  be  too  great 
for  her.     It  is  enough  that  she  apostatizes  herself,  but  as,to 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  261 

goincc  HIT  3^  farther,  North  field,  I  warn  3^011  to  put  a  stop  to  it. 
IJ  yon  do  not  put  a  stop  to  it,  some  one  else  'will.^'' 

Alter  this  warning  there  seemed  but  one  course  to  be  pur- 
sued, and  Mrs.  Northfield  said  to  Ma3'on: 

"  Mayon.  3^our  father  and  I  agree  that  the  sooner  3'ou  leave 
us  for  New  York  the  better,  as  we  consider  it  unsafe  for  3^ou 
to  remain  here,  the  hatred  of  the  Mormons  is  so  intense." 

"  But,  mother,  you  do  not  fear  that  any  personal  harm 
will  come  to  me,  if  I  now  remain  quietly  at  home,  do 
you?" 

''^ly  child,  a  religion  that  would  excite  men  to  the  deeds 
committed  by  the  Mormons,  is  not  to  be  trusted;  and  if 
lives  were  once  openly  taken  in  a  religious  zeal  against  the 
Gentiles,  what  would  they  not  do  now,  if  they  dared?  I 
have  never  told  you  of  the  '  Death  Society,'  'Avenging 
Angels,'  or  '  Band  of  Danites,'  as  they  were  called,  which  the 
old  Mormon  women  have  told  me  used  to  exist  here  in  full 
force,  and  even  now  exists  in  secret,  but  the  Mormons  dare 
not  now  be  so  bold  in  their  persecution  of  the  Gentiles." 

"  Tell  me  about  them  now,  mother ! "  and  Mayon's  e3'es 
dilated  with  horror. 

Her  mother  related  what  she  knew  of  the  horrors  of  the 
past,  when  a  band  of  men — tried,  true  and  trusty  Mor- 
mons— was  formed  for  the  purpose  of  exterminating  apos- 
tates or  Gentiles  who  were  found  to  be  o])posing  God's 
Church.  To  apostatize  then,  during  that  reign  of  terror, 
was  to  have  the  throat  cut  from  ear  to  ear,  or  to  suffer  some 
other  ignominious  death,  for  God's  chosen  people  were  to  cut 
Oil  any  who  opposed  his  cause.  They  were  led  b3^  the  hand 
of  God  in  inspiration,  and  though  murder  in  the  Church 
was  a  terrible  crime,  yet  the  killing  of  the  Gentile  was  no 
murder.  Tlie  whole  earth,  with  its  cattle  upon  the  thousand 
hills,  was  the  Lord's,  and  therefore  belonged  to  his  people, 
and  they  hesitated  not  in  appropriating  their  property,  even 


262  FLDtR  northfield's  home  ;  OR, 

though  the  wicked  Gentiles  claimed  it  as  their  own.  Polyg- 
amy was  established,  and  a  massive  temple  built  in  what 
were  then  their  lieadquartcrs,  farther  east,  and  the  reviv- 
ing of  the  old  Jewish  sacrifices  was  even  contemplated. 
Thus  she  showed  INIayon  that  the  most  terrible  crimes  of  all 
descriptions  had  been  the  dark  results  of  Mormonism's 
teachings. 

Mayon  was  now  almost  trembling  with  terror,  and  she 
agreed  with  her  mother  that  it  was  best  for  her  to  depart 
immediately. 

''  But,  mother,"  she  said,  ''  isn't  it  a  pity  that  that  woman 
should  prove  a  traitor  and  expose  us  all?  Now  none  of 
them  can  escape  at  present,  and  perhaps  never.  O,  mother, 
you  cannot  tell  how  disappointed  I  am  that  my  efforts,  which 
seemed  so  successful  and  gave  me  so  much  pleasure,  have 
proven  a  complete  failure!  I  did  so  long  that  they,  and 
particularly  Annie  Huchins  and  Josie  Parks,  might  get  away 
from  here,  for  they  are  both  very  unhap])y.  And,  mother,  I 
must  leave  you  so  soon  !  But  it  will  not  be  so  hard  as  our 
other  parting  was,  for  then  I  thought  I  should  never  see  you 
again.  Now  I  think  you  will  come  to  me,  and  perhaps  be- 
fore many  years.  0,  how  we  should  thank  God  that  light 
is  slowly,  but  surely,  creeping  into  father's  mind  !  I  never 
loved  my  father  as  I  do  now,  and  I  believe  he  will  miss  me 
very  mucli." 

While  Mrs.  Northfield  was  necessarily  absent  from  her 
home  a  few  moments  that  evening,  and  before  Mr.  Northfield 
had  returned,  Mayon  sat  thinking  of  Annie  and  Josie,  in 
whose  welfare  she  was  especially  interested.  They  were  both 
very  dissatisfied  with  Mormonism,  and  being  naturally  re- 
fined and  intelligent  girls,  though  not  educated,  they  longed 
to  escape  into  the  Gentile  world.  Annie  was  persecuted,  as 
Mayon  had  been,  on  the  matrimonial  questioUj  and  Josie, 
whose  own  mother  was  dead,  was  treated  very  cruelly  by 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  263 

her  fiither's  wives.  Mayon  had  influenced  them  to  determine 
to  escape  with  her,  and  now,  that  she  knew  how  disai> 
pointed  they  must  be,  slie  longed  to  comfort  them,  and  give 
them  her  address  and  urge  them  to  write  to  her,  if  ever  she 
could  be  of  service  to  them  in  any  subsequent  attempt  they 
miglit  make  to  escape.  So  she  resolved,  in  spite  of  her  fears, 
to  disguise  herself  by  wearing  her  mother's  cloak  and  a  thick 
veil,  and  visit  them  once  more  before  she  left  the  city.  A 
few  moments  later  Mrs.  Northfield  returned,  and  was  a  little 
disappointed  to  find  Mayon  was  not  at  home.  She  sup- 
posed, however,  that  she  had  gone  to  a  neighbor's  house, 
and  would  soon  return.  But  as  time  passed  she  became  un- 
easy, and,  by  the  time  Mr.  Northfield  entered  the  house,  was 
quite  alarmed.  Without  stopping  for  supper  he  immedi- 
ately set  out  to  find  Mayon,  saying: 

"  She  was  very  imprudent  to  go  out  in  the  evening  unat- 
tended.    Why  did  you  allow  her  to  do  so?" 

"  I  did  not  allow  her.  She  went  without  my  knowledge, 
and  during  my  absence  from  the  house.  0, 1  hope  no  harm 
will  come  to  her." 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed,  Marion  ;  I  will  bring  her  back  with 
me,  if  I  have  to  search  the  city  over  for  her." 

But  before  he  returned  Mrs.  Northfield  was  in  the  greatest 
suspense,  and  her  fears  were  doubled.  After  an  hour,  how- 
ever, she  heard  steps  approaching,  but  they  were  irregular 
and  slow.  She  hastened  to  open  the  door,  and,  sure  enough, 
Mr.  Northfield  had  brought  Mayon  back  with  him,  and  al- 
most literally  carried  her,  for  she  was  scarcely  able  to  walk. 
She  looked  frightened  and  very  pale,  and  her  mother  ex- 
claimed : 

"  0,  Mayon,  what  has  happened  ?  Henry,  what  does  it 
all  mean  ?  " 

''  I  do  not  know  myself,"  said  he  ;  "  but  get  something  to 
revive  and  stimulate  her,  and  we  will  try  to  learn  what  is 
the  matter." 


264  ELDER   NOrvTHFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

Vriiile  Mrs.  Xorthfield  proceeded  to  obey  his  directions, 
her  husband  removed  Mnyon's  cloak,  and  saw  that  her  dress- 
sleeve  was  stained  with  blood.  He  could  hardly  suppress  a 
cry  of  horror,  but  was  relieved  to  find  that  her  arm  was  only 
slightly  grazed,  apparently  by  a  pistol  ball.  Her  forehead, 
too,  was  badly  bruised  and  swollen.  She  was  soon  recovered 
from  her  half-fainting  condition,  and  her  father  said : 

*'  Now,  Marion,  I  will  tell  yoa  all  I  know  of  this  affair,  and 
I  liope  Mayon  is  now  able  to  tell  the  rest.  I  searched  fur 
her  among  the  neighbors,  and  then  it  occurred  to  me  that 
she  might  have  been  so  rash  as  to  have  attempted  to  see 
some  of  her  converts  again,  and  I  had  not  proceeded  far  in 
the  direction  I  thought  she  would  take,  when  I  met  a  woman 
almost  staggering  along  on  the  sidewalk.  Soniething  about 
her  seemed  familiar  to  me,  and  I  stopped  and  watclied  her 
after  we-had  met  and  she  had  passed  on.  I  turned  and  fol- 
lowed her,  and  she  seemed  terribly  afraid  of  me;  and  when 
at  last  I  spoke  to  her,  she  screamed,  but  was  soon  calm  when 
she  realized  who  it  was  that  was  pursuing.  Her  thick  veil 
blinded  her  so  that  she  could  not  recognize  me  in  the  dark- 
ness. I  brought  her  home  as  fast  as  I  could,  and  checked 
all  her  attempts  to  speak,  for  she  had  scarcely  strength  to 
walk.  Now,  ]\rayon,  can  you  tell  me  how  you  came  to  be  in 
this  condition  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mayon  ;  "  I  went  to  see  Josie  and  Annie  once 
more.  I  did  not  feel  afraid  to  do  so  with  the  disguise  I 
adopted,  and  as  I  was  hurrying  home,  going  on  Elm  street, 
which  you  know  is  an  unfrequented  one,  I  ran  against  a 
rope,  stretched  across  the  street,  about  a  foot  from  the  ground. 
I  fell,  and  immediately  heard  a  laughing,  hooting  and  rough 
talking  at  my  expense,  behind  the  fence,  only  a  few  feet 
from  me.  I  rose  and  found  my  head  was  badly  hurt,  but  I 
commenced  to  run.  I  had  not  proceeded  far,  however,  when 
I  saw  a  flash  of  light,  heard  a  pistol  report,  and  felt  my  arm 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  265 

linding  with  pain  ;  but  I  continued  to  Imrry  on  as  best  I 
could,  expecting  to  be  killed  if  I  could  not  reach  home  soon. 
I  heard  the  ruffians  swearing,  as  if  in  great  rage,  but  I 
hastened  on,  as  well  as  I  could,  with  weakness  from  pain 
and  fright,  and  when  fatlier  spoke  to  me  I  was  so  excited 
that  I  did  not  recognize  his  voice  at  first,  and  thought  the 
men  had  pursued  me.  I  never  was  so  thankful,  I  think,  as 
I  was  when  I  realized  that  it  was  he.  Now  you  have  the 
whole  stor}^,  and  what  does  it  mean?  " 

"  It  means,  my  dear,"  said  her  father,  "that  the  Mormons, 
as  a  body,  are  enraged  and  excited  because  you  have  stirred 
up  rebellion  among  the  women,  and  a  few  of  the  villanous 
men,  who  are  everywhere  to  be  found,  have  allowed  their 
passions  to  excite  them  to  an  attack  upon  you.  I  shudder 
to  think  what  might  have  occurred,  but  if  those  criminals 
can  be  found,  they  shall  be  brought  to  justice." 

"But  Mayon  is  not  safe  a  day  longer  here,"  said  her 
mother. 

"  No,"  replied  her  ilither,  "  and  if  these  Avounds  prove  to 
be  no  more  serious  in  the  morning  than  I  hope,  she  had 
best  leave  on  the  early  train.  I  will  go  with  you,  Mayon,  as 
far  as  Cheyenne,  for  your  protection." 

But  before  morning  Mr.  Northfield  was  visited  with  a  se- 
vere attack  of  a  disease  from  which  he  often  suffered,  and  he 
was  unable  to  leave  his  bed.  He  thought  best,  however,  for 
Mayon  to  proceed  as  she  had  intended,  thougli  she  must 
journey  alone.  He  did  not  believe  the  respectable  Mor- 
mons would  v.'ish  any  violence  done  her,  and  thought  the 
attack  on  the  previous  night  was  an  outburst  of  the  indigna- 
tion of  ruffians,  or  the  resentment  of  those  who  might  feel 
personally  injured  by  her.  He  thought  Annie  Huchins' 
lover,  who  was  a  man  of  rather  low  character,  might  be  among 
the  latter  class.  That  any  attempt  whatever  would  be  made 
in  daylight,  or  by  the  body  of  Mormons  at  any  time,  to  do 


266  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;    OR, 

personal  violence  to  his  daughter,  he  did  not  think  pos- 
sible. So  with  regret,  rather  than  fear,  he  bade  lier  good- 
bye, and  she  left  them  again.  Again  she  was  fleeing  from 
her  persecutors,  but  not  as  before  from  her  father,  as  the 
greatest  of  them.  Her  parting  with  her  mother  was  cheered 
by  a  whispered  hoi)e  of  meeting  again,  and  that  in  the  Gen- 
tile world. 

Before  the  train  had  borne  Ma3"on  out  of  the  Territory,  she 
felt  that  she  was  watched  by  two  men,  who  entered  the  same 
car  in  wdiich  she  seated  herself  at  Salt  Lake  City.  She 
changed  cars  twice  on  the  train,  and  was  much  annoyed  to 
find  that  they  soon  followed  her  in  her  changes.  At  last 
she  resolved  to  stop  over  a  train  at  one  of  the  prominent 
stations,  hoping  thus  to  rid  herself-  of  her  disagreeable  trav- 
elling companions.  She  did  so,  and  was  really  alarmed  to 
find  that  the  two  men  had  also  stopped,  and  again,  as  she 
resumed  her  journey,  were  seated  near  her.  She  was  now 
quite  nervous  and  frightened,  but  tried  to  calm  her  fears,  and 
attribute  them  to  her  fright  of  the  previous  night.  The  men 
■were  strangers  to  her,  and  she  did  not  like  their  looks.  They 
were  also  quite  profane,  and  indulged  freely  in  oaths  and 
tobacco.  At  last,  after  two  days  of  weary  travelling,  tor- 
mented by  fear,  while  waiting  in  a  depot  in  one  of  the  large 
towns  on  the  route,  these  men  came  to  her,  and  one  of  them 
said : 

"  Miss,  I  am  authorized  to  arrest  you,  and  you  will  oblige 
us  by  offering  no  resistance,  for  it  will  be  entirely  useless, 
and  only  make  a  scene,  which  you  can  just  as  well  avoid. 
You  will  go  with  us  quietly  to  the  police  station,  and  after 
trial,  if  you  are  proved  not  guilty,  you  can  continue  on  your 
journey." 

"  You  must  not  arrest  me.  You  are  making  some  mis- 
take.    I  have  violated  no  law,  and  cannot  be  held  for  trial." 

But  the}^  were  already  putting  handcuffs  on  her  wrists. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  267 

Then  she  burst  into  a  violent  fit  of  anger  and  excitement, 
attracted  the  attention  of  the  people  about  her,  declaring 
her  innocence  and  that  these  men  were  committing  an  out- 
rage upon  her,  and  then  said,  turning  to  some  gentlemen 
who  were  looking  at  her  with  half-pitying,  half-curious  faces: 
"  Gentlemen,  I  am  an  escaped  Mormon  girl.  I  have  been 
in  New  York  two  years,  and  was  decoyed  back  again  to  Salt 
Lake  City  by  Mormons,  who  hoped  by  a  plot  of  theirs  to 
keep  me  there.  Their  plot  failed,  and  their  anger  on  that 
account,  and  because  of  my  influence  among  the  women 
against  Mormonism,  nearly  resulted  in  my  death  the  night 
before  I  left.  These  men  boarded  the  train  at  Salt  Lake  City 
at  the  time  I  did,  and  they  have  followed  and  shadowed  me 
all  the  way,  and  now  pretend  to  arrest  me  for  trial.  I  appeal 
to  you,  gentlemen,  for  help." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  one  of  the  men  who  had  hand-cuffed 
Mayon,  "  I  shall  be  obliged,  I  see,  to  tell  my  version  of  the 
story,  though  for  her  sake  I  wished  to  be  quiet  about  it. 
This  unfortunate  young  lady  is  insane,  and  on  one  point 
principally :  she  imagines  what  she  has  been  telling  you  is 
true,  and  has  told  every  one  the  same  story  for  two  years. 
She  never  was  in  Salt  Lake  City  or  New  York  city,  and 
knows  no  more  of  Mormon  life  than  what  she  has  learned 

from  books.     She  is  the  daughter  of  a  merchant  in  B , 

and  escaped  recently  from  the  insane  asylum  back  here  a 
few  miles  at  N .  The  wound  on  her  head  was  occa- 
sioned by  her  beating  it  against  the  walls  of  her  room.  We 
are  officers,  and  it  is  our  disagreeable  duty  to  take  her  back 
to  the  asylum." 

Mayon's  plea  had  enlisted  the  sympathy  of  the  people 
standing  about  and  excited  their  indignation,  till  the 
gentlemen  were  ready  to  interfere  for  her  protection.  But 
this  explanation  of  affairs  was  believed,  apparently,  as 
Mayon  beheld  with  horror.      She  became  terribly  excited 


268  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's    HOME;    OR, 

now  and  tried  to  convince  her  audience  that  she  was  telling 
the  trutli,  and  tliat  she  was  sane.  But  her  words  had  a 
contrary  eJGfect,  and  her  eyes  gleamed,  as  the  people  thou;:ht, 
•with  insanity,  and  indeed  they  were  wild  with  terror.  Her 
frenzy  at  tlie  treatment  she  received  was  easily  mistaken  for 
insanity,  and  the  ladies  turned  away,  saying:  "Poor  creature, 
I  liope  she  will  recover.  Slie  is  so  beautiful  and  naturally 
intelligent!"  and  the  gentlemen  remarking:  "Well,  there's 
no  doubt  she  is  insane,  judging  from  her  appearance.  I 
pity  her,  though." 

Mayon  saw  how  useless  all  appeals  for  assistance  were, 
and  submitted  in  despair  to  being  jjlaced  in  a  carriage  and 
driven  mile  after  mile  over  roads,  which  she  attempted  to 
recollect  in  case  she  succeeded  in  escaping  and  wished  to 
go  over  the  road  again.  It  was  dark  when  they  stopped  be- 
fore a  large  brick  building,  and  Mayon  was  lifted  from  the 
carriage.  Again  she  became  desperate  and  tried  to  spring 
back  into  the  carriage,  hoping  to  be  able  to  start  the  horses 
before  her  captors  could  prevent  and  thus  escape.  But  she 
was  rudely  caught  by  the  arm,  and  her  wound  hurt  so  badly 
that  she  screamed.  She  was  forced  inside  the  building,  and 
really  had  the  appearance  at  the  time  of  being  a  raving 
maniac.  She  heard  such  expressions  as  the  following  from 
the  attendants  and  other  patients  :  "  Poor  thing !  "  "  How  very 
crazy  she  is  ! "  "  What  a  beautiful  girl  to  be  brought  here  !  " 
"We  shall  have  to  resort  to  discipline,  I  fear,  with  her." 
AVhen  Mayon  was  at  last  locked  in  her  room  alone  she 
realized  that  in  her  agony  she  had  acted  in  perfect  accord- 
ance with  her  captors'  wishes,  and  had  corrohorated  their 
statements  of  her  insanity  by  acting  like  an  insane  person. 
She  resolved  now  to  be  very  calm  and  to  convince  the  at- 
tendants by  her  manner  that  she  was  sane,  and  tell  them 
her  whole  story.  But  the  villains  were  i)reparcd  for  that, 
and  had  instructed  the  officers  of  the  peculiar  phase  of  her 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  269 

insanit}^,  and  the}'  in  turn  had  informed  the  attendants,  so 
•when  she  told  the  kind  lad}^  in  charge  her  story,  she  said : 
"Well,  my  dear,  if  that  is  so,  we  will  make  it  all  right  in  a 
few  days,"  and  Mayon  knew  that  she  was  not  believed.  She 
then  laid  her  case  before  the  superintendent,  asking  him  to 
write  to  her  father's  address  in  Salt  Lake  City  for  proof  of 
her  statements.  He  promised  to  do  so  to  quiet  her,  and 
Mayon  believed  he  would,  but  he  did  not.  This  was  only 
one  case  among  hundreds,  Avhere  patients  had  friends  in 
certain  places,  and  he  believed  or  acted  upon  the  belief  that 
her  father  was  just  as  visionary  a  person  as  these  friends 
usually  were. 

Thus  two  days  passed,  the  longest,  most  wretched  days 
of  Mayon's  life,  but  she  hoped  for  release  as  soon  as  the 
superintendent  could  write  to  her  father  and  hear  from  him. 
He  would  come  to  her  she  knew,  if  able,  and  perhaps  in  case 
of  his  inability  to  come  her  mother  would  fiy  to  her  relief. 
No  one  else  in  Salt  Lake  City  could  be  trusted  to  come.  0" 
what  would  her  father's  and  mother's  feelings  be  when  they 
learned  that  her  enemies  had  placed  her  in  a  lunatic  asylum ! 
At  the  close  of  the  second  day  of  her  imprisonment  the  at- 
tendant turned  the  keys  of  her  door  and  admitted  a  visitor, 
and  Mayon  recognized  one  of  the  gentlemen  who  listened  to 
her  plea  for  help  at  the  time  of  her  capture.  The  sight  of 
his  kind,  intelligent  face  inspired  her  with  hope.     Said  he : 

"  My  young  friend,  I  have  come  all  the  way  from 

for  the  purpose  of  learning  whether  the  story  you  told  there 
is  true,  and,  if  so,  to  assist  you  if  j^ossible  to  escape.  Al- 
though your  appearance  that  day  warranted  the  belief  that 
you  were  insane,  yet  I  half  believed  your  story,  and  could 
not  get  yoar  distressed  look  from  my  mind.  Your  face 
haunted  me  all  night  long  in  my  dreams  and  in  my  waking 
hours,  and  I  became  more  and  more  convinced  that  there 
was  some  foul  play  about  the  affair^  especially  as  the  more 


270 

I  thought  of  it  I  did  not  like  the  appearance  of  the  men  who 
claimed  to  be  officers.  I  told  my  wife  about  you,  my  fears, 
and  half  determination  to  look  into  the  matter,  and  she  would 
not  rest  till  I  set  out  for  this  place.  When  I  inquired  of  the 
officers  here  about  the  escaped  lunatic  that  had  just  been 
returned,  they  did  not  know  to  whom  I  referred.  Then  I 
discovered  through  them  that  you  had  never  been  here  be- 
fore, and  that  strengthened  my  belief  in  the  rascality  of  those 
men.  Now  tell  me  anything  that  may  lead  to  a  further 
solution  of  this  matter,  and  what  you  wish  me  to  do  to  help 
you  out  of  this  place." 

Then  Mayon  told  him  all,  and  he  was  perfectly  convinced 
of  her  sanity,  and  went  to  the  superintendent  and  demanded 
that  she  should  be  released.  The  superintendent  blandly 
replied  that  that  was  impossible.  If  he  released  every  patient 
who  succeeded  in  procuring  a  friend  to  demand  his  or  her 
release,  every  maniac  in  the  institution  might  soon  be  at 
large  and  the  country  be  endangered  by  their  libert}^  He 
could  not  release  a  patient  without  the  most  positive  proof 
that  he  was  right  in  so  doing.  Why  should  he  take  the 
word  of  one  man  against  two  others,  and  the  appearance  of 
the  girl  besides?  "for,"  said  he,  "the  girl  was  certainly  one 
of  the  most  raving  of  msane  persons  I  ever  saw  when  brought 
here." 

"  So  she  was  when  I  saw  her  captured,"  said  Mayon 's  new 
friend,  "and  wdiat  innocent,  right-minded  girl  would  not 
have  been  under  the  circumstances?  Would  you,  sir,  if 
attacked  by  rough-looking  men,  hand-cuffed,  and  told  you 
.were  insane,  and  were  to  be  taken  to  an  insane  asyhun — 
w^ould  you  quietly  and  calmly  submit,  or  would  you  make 
resistance  and  struggle  for  freedom?  Would  you  be  un- 
moved and  calm  under  such  circumstances,  or  would  your 
blood  boil,  your  anger  rise,  and,  in  your  indignation,  would 
you  not  give  vent  to  your  excitement,  and  would  not  your 


SACRIFICED    ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  271 

eyes  gleam  with  something  which  might  be  taken  for  in- 
sanity ?  If  you  as  a  man  were  thus  treated,  what  would  be 
ymir  sensations  ?  But  still  farther :  imagine  yourself  a  young, 
unprotected  female,  with  no  power  to  resist,  and  obliged  to 
submit — would  such  a  person  be  likely  to  be  very  calm,  think 
you  ?  Why,  man,  it  was  enough  to  make  the  girl  insane, 
and  take  care,  sir,  that  you  do  not  do  it." 

"  No  doubt  your  arguments  appear  very  deep  to  3"0U,  sir, 
but  fortunately  I  am  more  familiar  with  insane  people  than 
you  are,  and  shall  take  the  liberty  to  judge  for  myself  as  to 
this  case,  and  nothing  but  the  most  positive  proof  that  this 
girl's  story  is  true  will  ensure  her  release.  Procure  me  that 
proof,  sir,  and  I  wdll  release  her.     Not  till  then." 

The  gentleman  Avent  to  Mayon  and  told  her  how  matters 
stood,  and  that  she  would  be  obliged  to  remain  a  few  days, 
till  he  could  correspond  with  her  friends  both  in  Salt  Lake 
City  and  New  York.  Meantime  he  would  go  to  his  home 
and  at  the  earliest  possible  hour  return  with  proof  to  insure 
her  freedom.  Ma^'on  gave  him  the  address  of  her  father  and 
also  her  uncle,  and  it  was  not  without  a  flood  of  tears  that 
she  parted  with  him,  for  she  feared  some  further  plot  at  the 
hands  of  her  enemies  before  he  should  be  able  to  secure  her 
release.  Therefore  with  his  departure  much  of  her  hopeful- 
ness departed  also.  She  looked  upon  him  as  her  protector 
and  saviour,  and  her  gratitude  towards  him  knew  no  bounds. 
A  few  weary  days  of  life  in  a  lunatic  asylum  passed,  and 
Mayon  began  to  think  siie  was  to  thoroughly  know  Gentile 
institutions  of  every  nature.  The  scenes  in  that  insane 
asylum  were  among  those  most  vividly  impressed  upon  her 
mind  in  after  years.  She  felt  that  the  misery  there  and  the 
frightful  sights  and  sounds  of  the  maniacs  would  drive  her 
crazy  if  she  must  endure  it  long ;  but  her  friend  did  not  de- 
sert her ;  her  enemies  did  not  give  her  further  trouble ;  and 
at  last  as  evidence,  of  a  quantity  and  quality  beyond  a  doubt, 


272 

of  her  sanity  and  truthfulness  were  produced,  the  bland 
superintendent  gave  orders  that  ^layon  Northfield  he  re- 
leased, and  with  her  friend  she  once  more  breathed  the  itee 
air  of  heaven,  and  her  heart  was  filled  with  joy  as  she  realized 
that  again  she  had  escaped  from  Mormonism's  toils.  She, 
however,  felt  that  she  should  not  be  free  from  fear  till  safe 
in  her  aunt's  home  at  New  York.  She  expressed  this 
thought,  and  her  friend  said : 

"I  shall  accompany  you  to  New  York,  and  see  you  safe 
under  Walter  Bernard's  roof  before  I  leave.  I  have  corre- 
sponded with  him,  and  also  with  your  father.  Here  is  a  letter 
from  the  latter." 

Mayon  read  it.  It  was  in  answer  to  one  written  by  him, 
and  it  expressed  grief  at  Mayon's  affliction,  gratitude  for 
her  deliverance,  and  regrets  that  he  could  not  come  himself 
to  her  relief.  "I  am  sick,"  wrote  he:  "hardly  able  to  pen 
these  words.  Tell  my  daughter  that  I  have  had  a  very  severe 
attack,  but  am  now  improving.  I  have  no  one  I  can  send  to 
her  relief,  for  I  am  a  Mormon,  and  have  scarcely  a  Gentile 
friend  in  the  world,  and  a  Mormon  I  cannot  trust.  If  you 
will  allow  me  to  become  still  more  indebted  to  you,  and  will 
yourself  accompany  Mayon  to  New  York,  and  place  her 
under  her  uncle's  protection,  I  will  gladly  defray  every 
pecuniary  expense  it  may  occasion  you  ;  or  if  that  is  out  of 
the  question,  will  you  send  some  one  whom  you  know  you 
can  trust  to  act  as  her  escort?  Either  way,  I  will  enclose  a 
check  which  will  go  far  towards  expenses,  if  not  sufficient. 
Sick,  and  friendless  in  the  Gentile  world  at  least,  I  appeal 
to  your  noble  heart  to  continue  the  care  over  my  daughter, 
which  I  am  unable  to  give  her,  and,  if  money  can  reward 
you,  you  shall  have  that;  if  not,  God  will  reward  you  for 
nobly  helping  your  fellow-beings  in  distress." 


SACRIFICED  ON   THE  MORMON  ALTAR.  273 


CHAPTER  XYL 

AT  D Seminary  one  room,  at  least,  was  in  the  most 
perfect  order.  Bouquets,  in  spite  of  the  season,  orna- 
mented its  little  table,  and  filled  it  with  sweetness.  Jessie, 
with  eager,  expectant  look,  was  attired  in  one  of  her  most 
attractive  costumes,  and  her  slender  hands  and  feet  could 
not  be  made  to  keep  quiet,  as  she  excitedly  rocked  to  and 
fro  in  her  chair,  looking  involuntarily  from  her  window 
down  the  long,  wide  carriage  way  leading  to  the  building. 
For  Mayon  was  coming  back  to  school  to-day,  and  was  to 
share  Jessie's  room,  now  that  Lillian  was  gone,  and  Jessie 
wi\s  prepared  to  give  her  the  heartiest  welcome  ever  given  by 
one  school-girl  to  another.  At  last  her  eyes  were  rewarded 
for  their  diligence  by  the  sight  of  a  carriage  coming  up  the 
avenue;  and,  flying  down  to  the  door,  she  received  Mayon 
with  open  arms.  After  leading  her  to  what  was  henceforth 
to  be  their  room,  Jessie  exclaimed : 

"  Little  did  I  think,  Mayon,  that  when  you  left  us  all  at 
home,  it  would  be  weeks,  instead  of  days,  before  I  saw  you 
again.  What  a  terrible  thing  that  conspiracy  w^as !  and  O, 
Mayon,  you  can't  tell  how  I  hate  and  fear  the  Mormons,  since 
we  received  your  letter  telling  us  about  Flora.  That  poor, 
'poor  girl !  Perhaps  she  will  listen  to  reason  now,  and  come 
back  to  us.     Has  she  received  the  letter  we  wrote  her?" 

"  I  do  not  know  that  she  has  received  any  letter  from  you 
of  late;  but  I  should  not  know  if  she  had." 

"  But  it  was  directed  to  your  mother,  with  the  request  that 
she  would  forward  it  privately  to  Flora,  and  that  thus  her 
18 


274  ELDER   NORTIIFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

brutal  liusband  would  not  destro}"  it.  It  should  have  reached 
your  mother,  I  think,  before  you  came  away." 

"  But,  Jessie,  I  have  been  a  great  while  on  the  way.  I 
stopped  a  week  on  the  route." 

"  Where,  and  wh}^  did  you  stop?  " 

"I  will  tell  you  soon;  but  first  please  tell  me  who  wrote 
the  letter  you  speak  of — did  your  father  have  a  part  in  it?  " 

"  Yes,  and  that  is  what  I  was  going  to  tell  you  of.  It 
makes  such  a  change  now  in  our  home.  Your  letter  com- 
pletely broke  down  father's  sternness,  and  actually  the  tears 
rolled  down  his  cheeks,  as  he  read  of  poor  Flora's  suffering 
and  determination  to  remain  away;  and  mother  put  her 
arms  around  his  neck,  and  of  course  she  cried  and  we  all 
cried,  from  father  down  to  Leonard,  who  walked  up  and 
down  the  room,  trying  to  wipe  away  the  tears  unobserved 
by  us,  and  interrupting  father  continually  by  saying,  'I  wish 
I  could  kill  ever}^  Mormon !  How  I  would  like  to  set  up 
Burnside  for  a  target  to  shoot  at!  Father,  let  me  go  to  Utah 
and  get  Flora.  I'll  bring  her,  if  I  have  to  shoot  every  man 
there!'  and  other  similar  expressions.  The  ice  was  now 
broken  between  father  and  the  rest  of  us,  as  it  seems  it  was 
already  between  him  and  Flora,  and  we  wrote  a  genuine 
family  letter,  father  beginning  it,  and  so  on  till  Leonard  fin- 
ished it  up  with  bad  writing  and  blots,  and  the  fiercest 
epithets  against  the  Mormons.  We  hoped  that  letter  would 
reach  Flora,  for  father  assured  her  that,  if  she  would  only 
come  back  to  us  and  forgive  all  his  j^ast  unkindnesses,  she 
should  be  received  with  warm  hearts  and  loving  hands,  and 
she  would  make  us  once  more  a  happy  famil}-,  as  we  were 
wlien  she  was  with  us.  I  do  hope  she  will  come  now;  but, 
May  on,  tell  about  your  stopping  on  the  way.  Where  did 
you  stop  ?  " 

*'  I  stop})ed  at  an  insane  asylum." 

"An  insane  asylum !  " 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  275 

"Yes." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  Why  did  you  stop  at  an  insane 
asylum  and  sta}"  a  week?" 

"  Because,  Jessie,  my  Mormon  enemies  saw  fit  to  place  me 
there,  and  had  it  not  been  for  a  friend,  that  I  shall  always 
believe  God  raised  up  for  me,  I  might  have  been  there  now 
— yes,  I  might  have  spent  my  life  there,  for  aught  I  know. 
Mormon  animosity  would  have  been  equal  to  that,  I  do 
believe." 

Tiicn  INIayon  related  the  whole  of  her  history,  that  had 
transpired  since  she  had  written  to  Jessie.  Though  it  re- 
quired hours  for  the  accomplishment  of  all  that  must  be 
told  on  both  sides,  at  last  they  were  able  to  fix  their  atten- 
tion upon  the  present,  and  studies,  teachers  and  school 
matters  in  general  were  discussed.  Maj^on  had  been  able  to 
pursue  some  of  her  studies  while  at  her  mother's,  but  Avas, 
in  many  respects,  of  course,  behind  her  class.  She  now  re- 
solved, if  permitted,  to  continue  with  her  class,  and  b}^  extra 
Btudy  make  up  for  what  was  lost.  This,  by  hard  work,  she 
succeeded  in  doing.  IMeanwhile  Flora  had  received  the  let- 
ter from  her  parents,  brothers  and  sisters,  and  answered  it, 
sending  her  letter  tlirough  the  same  medium,  throu,2;h  whom 
their  letter  came  to  her.  She  expressed  much  love  and 
gratitude  for  them  all,  but  firmly  and  gently  declined  to 
return  to  her  home,  as  she  had  declined  to  yield  to  Mayon's 
plea. 

Mr.  Northfield  recovered  from  his  sickness  after  many 
days,  and  then  set  about  the  task  of  bringing  about  the 
arrest  of  Mayon's  assailants  and  her  captors.  He  went  to 
the  officers  of  the  city,  but  found  there  w^as  little  ambition 
towards  the  enforcement  of  the  law;  and  though  they  prom- 
ised to  try  to  find  and  arrest  the  criminals,  and  apparently 
made  some  effort  iu  that  direction,  yet  it  was  evident  even 
to  Mr.  Northfield  that  there  was  little  heart  in  their  efforts. 


276  ELDER  NORTIIFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

No  one  was  arrested,  and  after  a  while  all  effort  in  that  di- 
rection ceased.  But  all  this  was  another  strong  cause  of  Mr. 
Kcrthfield's  increasing  dissatisfaction  with  Mormonism.  But 
yet  his  business  was  here,  his  home  was  here,  his  life-long 
associations  were  here. 

Forest  now  came  home,  expecting  to  find  Mayon,  and  say- 
ing he  came  home  for  the  purpose  of  meeting  her.  He  was 
quite  disappointed  at  finding  she  had  gone,  and  was  ignorant 
of  all  she  had  suffered,  and  also  of  the  cause.  He  was  in- 
clined to  look  upon  her  missionary  labors  as  a  great  outrage 
against  the  Church,  and  felt  that  the  blame  of  her  subsequent 
troubles  should  fall  largely  upon  her  own  head.  Forest  was 
a  model  Mormon,  as  his  father  had  labored  to  make  him. 
Now,  however,  at  listening  to  his  views  of  Mayon 's  experi- 
ence, he  did  not  feel  so  well  satisfied  with  the  success  he  had 
achieved,  in  rearing  his  son  in  his  own  religion. 

Towards  the  close  of  Mayon's  last  year  of  school-life,  one 
of  her  classmates,  named  Mary  Carson,  was  taken  suddenly 
and  seriously  ill.  She  was  a  girl  whom  no  one  liked,  on  ac- 
count of  her  churlish  disposition,  and  consequently  no  one 
was  ready  to  sacrifice  for  her  what  might  have  been  sacri- 
ficed for  a  more  worthy  schoolmate.  Mayon  learned  of  her 
illness,  and  immediately  went  to  her  room,  and,  as  Jessie 
was  at  home  on  that  day,  she  remained  with  Mary  almost 
constantly  for  twenty-four  hours.  The  school  authorities 
procured  the  sick  girl  a  nurse  as  soon  as  possible,  but  at  first, 
exce})t  for  Mayon,  she  would  have  been  much  alone.  Mayon 
read  to  her,  bathed  her  burning  brow,  and,  kindly  ignoring 
her  irritability  and  fault-finding,  ministered  to  her  comfort 
in  every  way  she  could.  After  a  day  or  two  the  physician 
decided  that  the  disease  was  a  case  of  a  very  malignant  fever, 
and  that  no  person  but  tlie  nurse  should  enter  the  room  for 
fear  of  contagion.  At  this  announcement  a  panic  ensued, 
and   the  nurse  immediately  left  the  premises,  the  pupils 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  277 

prepared  to  leave  the  school,  and  some  even  did  so  on  the 
spur  of  the  excitement.  For  the  welfare  and  also  the  safety 
of  the  school,  it  was  decided  that  the  patient  should  be  re- 
moved to  a  house  in  a  retired  part  of  the  town.  But  who 
could  be  obtained  to  go  with  her  and  nurse  her?  So  great 
was  the  fear  of  this  disease  that  it  began  to  appear  that  the 
poor  girl  would  be  left  without  care.  Mayon  saw  how  mat- 
ters stood,  and  with  a  serious  but  determined  face  she  said 
to  Jessie : 

"  Jessie,  I  will  tell  you  who  will  take  care  of  Mary  Carson. 
I  will." 

"  You  !    0,  no !  Mayon.     Remember  the  danger.     Don't 

go." 

"Jessie,"  said  Mayon,  rather  sternly,  "put  yourself  in  that 
girl's  place.  Imagine  you  are  many  hundred  miles  from 
home,  as  she  is,  very  sick  and  with  no  one  to  care  for  you — 
and  can  you  say  one  word  to  deter  me  from  going  with 
her?" 

"Mayon,  you  are  right,  and  I  will  go,  too,  and  help  you 
take  care  of  this  poor  girl.  If  anything  dreadful  comes,  we 
shall  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  we  have  done  right." 

"  No,  Jessie,  j^ou  must  not  go  with  me.  There  is  no  need 
that  two  should  be  exposed  to  the  danger;  and,  as  I  have 
already  been  with  her  a  great  deal,  tliere  can  be  no  further 
exposure  for  me,  and  so  I  will  go  with  her.  I  will  tell  Dr. 
Saxon  to-day  that  I  have  found  a  nurse  for  him  to  take  with 
poor  ^lary." 

Then  came  days  of  weary  watching  beside  a  sick-bed,  and 
the  severest  tax  upon  Mayon 's  bodily  strength,  for  her  patient 
needed  continual  care,  and  there  was  no  rest  for  her.  A  boy 
was  procured  to  remain  in  the  house  and  wait  upon  its  oc- 
cupants, and  also  to  bring  IMayon's  meals  to  her,  which  Dr. 
Saxon  arranged  should  be  prepared  at  a  neighboring  house. 
Aside  from  him  Mayon  was  alone  with  the  suffering  girl, 


278  ELDER   NORTHFIELd's   HOME;   OR, 

who  was  at  times  wild  with  delirium,  and  in  moments  of 
reason  was  unceasing  in  her  demands  upon  Mayon's  strength. 
And  yet  Mayon  was  not  alone,  for  the  tender-hearted  physi- 
cian, who  was  but  a  few  j^ears  Mayon's  senior,  gave  all  the 
time  he  could  to  this  patient,  and  often  bade  her  go  and  rest 
while  he  remained  by  the  sick-bed.  From  this  common 
sympathy  for  their  patient  there  arose  a  sympathy  between 
their  hearts  that  Mayon  little  suspected  at  first.  Dr.  Saxon's 
visits  began  to  seem  to  her  like  oases  in  a  desert.  She  looked 
for  his  coming  with  what  she  thought  was  an  eagerness  for 
Mary's  welfare ;  but  why  was  it  that,  after  her  ear  had  been 
strained  to  catch  the  sound  of  his  coming,  his  firm,  quick 
step  at  last  caused  her  heart  to  beat  violently,  and  her  hand 
became  too  unsteady  to  carry  the  medicine  or  nourisliment 
to  her  patient's  lips?  Why  did  she  now  become  embarrassed 
and  confused  when  he  took  her  hand  for  a  cheering  greeting 
or  parting  grasp,  when  once  she  had,  with  all  the  dignity 
and  grace  of  her  nature,  received  and  returned  these  friendly 
civilities  ? 

Dr.  Saxon's  eyes,  so  like  Mayon's  own,  had  looked  into 
hers  with  too  much  tenderness  for  her  composure.  His 
manner  spoke  to  her  of  more  than  friendly  regard,  and  his 
noble  qualities  inspired  her  with  a  feeling  of  worship,  which 
no  man  had  ever  awakened  in  her  before.  She  was  mortified 
at  her  inability  to  disguise  her  feelings,  and  tried  with  all 
her  might  to  regain  her  former  composure,  but  her  efi'ort 
resulted  in  complete  failure.  She  feared  she  had  given  her 
heart  unsought,  and  looked  forward  to  the  end  of  her  self- 
imposed  task,  as  a  relief  from  her  embarrassing  position. 
The  end  came  sooner  than  she  expected,  and  together  they 
watched  the  afflicted  girl  as  she  struggled  in  the  agonies  of 
death.  This  was  the  first  death-bed  scene  Mayon  ever  wit- 
nessed, and  when  she  realized  that  her  patient  was  beyond 
the  reach  of  all  earthly  joy  or  pain,  she  kneeled  beside  the 


SACRIFICED   ON.  THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  279 

bed,  and,  with  face  buried  in  her  hands,  gave  vent  to  her 
grief  and  terror  in  a  passionate  flood  of  tears,  for  she  had 
grown  to  love  this  poor  girl,  who  had  so  little  affection  shown 
her  in  the  school.  Dr.  Saxon  bent  over  Mayon,  with  his 
dark  locks,  his  curling  beard  and  tender,  pitying  expression, 
and  gently  stroked  her  bowed  head  till  she  grew  quiet  and 
arose.  Then  there  was  a  sound  of  wheels  at  the  gate,  and 
friends  of  the  stricken  girl  had  come,  as  they  thought,  to  her 
relief;  but  they  had  come  too  late.  A  stronger,  mightier 
Power  than  theirs  had  wrested  Mary  from  the  suffering  and 
pain  of  life,  and  they  could  only  mourn  and  weep,  and  ten- 
derly care  for  their  dead. 

Mayon  remained  secluded  at  the  house  where  kind  hands 
had  prepared  her  meals  until  time  had  passed  and  a 
blessed  assurance  was  hers  that  she  had  not  sacrificed 
her  own  life  or  health  in  the  performance  of  what  seemed 
her  duty.  Dr.  Saxon  did  not  neglect  her  now,  but  closely 
watched  her,  to  check,  at  the  appearance  of  the  first  symp- 
tom, the  fever  which  he  feared  would  prostrate  her.  But 
careful  habits,  a  free  use  of  disinfectants,  and  a  strong  con- 
stitution, with  hope  and  cheer,  and,  it  should  be  said,  an 
overruling  Providence,  prevented  the  attack  of  the  disease, 
and  soon  Mayon,  recruited  by  her  few  days  of  rest,  was  again 
in  school,  striving  with  all  her  might  to  graduate  satisfac- 
torily to  herself,  teachers  and  friends.  During  her  self- 
imposed  task,  Mayon's  friends  in  New  York  were  ignorant 
of  her  procedure  till  towards  the  last.  Then  Dr.  Saxon  took 
it  upon  himself  to  inform  them.  They  were  quite  alarmed, 
and  were  about  sending  a  nurse  from  the  city  to  take  her 
place,  when  news  reached  them  that  her  patient  was  dead. 
She  was  far  dearer  to  them  for  the  sacrifice  she  had  made, 
although  they  would  have  prevented  it  had  they  known  in 
time.  Mayon  now  saw  little  of  Dr.  Saxon,  save  as  she  saw 
him  in  her  dreams  and  her  recollections  of  her  days  of  exile 


280  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

beside  Mary's  sick-bed.    She  wondered  often  if  he  had  quite 
forgotten  her. 

Graduation  day  came  at  last.  Mayon's  uncle  and  aunt, 
with  aunt  Wells  and  Lillian,  were  there,  and  she  had  met 
and  greeted  them ;  and  as  she  and  Jessie  looked  over  the 
hall,  Jessie  saw,  among  the  throng  gathered  there,  her 
parents  and  brothers. 

"Look,  Mayon,"  she  said,  ''there  are  father  and  mother 
and  the  boys,  after  all.     I  thought  they  had  not  come." 

Mayon  saw  them,  but  she  had  also  seen  another,  whose 
face  she  had  missed  of  late,  even  though  most  earnestly  de- 
voting her  mind  to  study.  Dr.  Saxon,  with  his  tall,  manly 
form,  and  handsome,  intelligent  face,  was  one  to  be  singled 
out  in  a  crowd.  But  it  w\as  not  his  striking  physique  that 
interested  Mayon  in  him  to  such  an  extent  that  she  almost 
forgot  the  presence  of  others.  Neither  was  it  the  bouquet 
which  he  held,  composed  entirely  of  white  lilies  and  half- 
opened  rose-buds,  although  this  did  not  escape  her  attention. 
Her  heart  beat  a  little  more  rapidly  as  she  wondered  who 
would  receive  that  bouquet.  She  watched  it  and  its  owner, 
who  retained  it  until  at  last  her  turn  came  to  deliver  the  vale- 
dictory, for  it  had  been  given  to  her,  and  among  her  floral 
gifts  w^as  the  one  of  lilies  and  roses.  The  prizes  were  now 
given,  and  after  all  which  had  been  offered  were  aw^arded, 
the  principal  said : 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen:  I  have  still  another  prize  to  give 
this  year,  one  entirely  unexpected,  and  unoffered.  IVIiss 
Mayon  Northfield  was  one  of  the  promising  competitors  for 
the  prizes  in  Latin,  notwithstanding  her  interruption  in  study 
in  the  early  part  of  the  year.  Again  she  has  been  interrupted 
in  the  pursuance  of  her  studies  in  an  unusual  manner.  She 
left  her  school,  which  she  dearly  loved,  and  secluded  herself 
by  the  sick-bed,  and  what  proved  to  be  the  death-bed  of  one 
of  our  number,  at  the  imminent  risk  of  health  and  even  life. 


SACPvIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  281 

She  was  the  only  person  to  be  found  who  dared  make  this 
sacrifice.  A  merciful  Providence  has  spared  her  from  all 
liarm  from  the  danger,  and  she  has  been  able,  by  the  greatest 
of  diligence,  to  graduate  with  honor  to-day.  But  the  Latin 
prize  slipped  from  her  grasp  and  was  won  by  another.  The 
prize  for  heroism  which  the  faculty  have  decided  to  award 
cannot  be  competed  for  by  any  member  of  the  school.  I  am 
authorized  to  present  Miss  Mayon  Northfield  with  this  medal 
of  gold,  as  a  well-earned  prize  for  heroism.  Miss  Northfield, 
please  come  forward." 

All  eyes  were  now  fixed  on  IMayon.  Poor,  frightened,  de- 
lighted and  embarrassed  Ma3'on  !  She  did  not  move.  Again 
the  principal,  in  reassuring  tones,  said: 

"  Will  Miss  Northfield  please  come  forward?  " 

Then  ^layon  rose,  and,  blushing  and  hardly  knowing  what 
she  did,  she  went  forward,  and  the  medal  was  hung  about 
her  neck  by  a  fine,  golden  chain.  Everybody  was  surprised 
— everybody  was  delighted — for  the  friends  of  the  pupils  had 
learned  of  the  noble  conduct  of  the  Mormon  girl,  and  a  mur- 
mur of  applause  began  and  increased,  till  the  sounds  were 
drowned  by  the  music  which  the  orchestra  struck  up. 

Later,  as  Mayon  and  Jessie  were  examining  the  flowers 
presented  to  them  respectively,  Mayon  found  a  dainty  card 
nearly  hidden  in  a  basket  of  flowers,  which  was  almost  a 
counterpart  of  one  given  Jessie.  It  contained  only  these 
words :  "  For  my  dear  sister  Mayon." 

"Carlos  gave  me  this,  Jessie,"  said  she,  "dear  Carlos!  I 
have  scarcely  seen  him  for  a  year." 

Then,  on  examining  her  bouquet,  she  found  a  little  slip 
of  paper,  buried  among  the  lilies,  with  these  words:  "A 
tribute  to  one  who  is  like  the  lily  in  its  purity  and  the  rose 
in  its  bloom." 

Mayon  read  the  words  and  shyly  glanced  at  Jessie,  who 
had  been  too  busy  with  her  own  gifts  to  notice  Mayon's 


282  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's    HOME  ;    OR, 

discovery.  She  did  not  show  tliis  paper  to  Jessie,  but  thrust 
it  into  her  pocket  hke  a  guilt}^  person.  Why  she  wished  to 
jiide  it  she  could  not  tell,  but  she  felt  that  it  was  meant  for 
her  alone,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  at  sight  of  it  all  eyes 
■would  penetrate  her  secret. 

But  Jessie  read  her  secret  without  the  aid  of  these 
words,  in  Mayon's  face  and  manner  as  she  examined  her 
treasure.  "  Mayon,"  she  exclaimed,  involuntarily,  "  Dr. 
Saxon  is  your  lover !  I  know  it  is  so.  Your  face  betrays 
you." 

"  No,  Jessie,"  said  Mayon,  now  regaining  her  composure : 
"  you  are  mistaken.  Dr.  Saxon  is  a  very  good  friend  to  me, 
but  he  has  never  given  me  any  reason  to  warrant  your 
assertion." 

"Then  he  will!  0,  Mayon,  I  did  so  hope  that  at  last 
you  might  become  my  sister.  Carlos  is  so  fond  of  you,  and 
always  will  be,  I  know." 

There  was  no  time  to  say  more,  for  there  were  friends 
to  greet,  farewells  to  say,  and  but  little  time  in  the  hurry 
and  bustle  of  leaving  school  for  private  conversation. 
Mayon's  school-life  had  been  very  happy,  and  her  departure 
from  the  place  so  dear  to  her  was  a  sad  one,  but  Jessie  was 
to  accompany  her  to  New  York,  and  later  to  the  sea-shore 
with  her  uncle's  family ;  thus  the  ending  of  her  school-days 
was  robbed  of  half  its  sadness. 

Mayon  and  Jessie  had  not  been  many  days  at  Mr.  Ber- 
nard's in  New  York,  when  at  dinner  one  day  her  uncle  said : 
''  Mayon,  I  met  your  friend.  Dr.  Saxon,  and  learned  from 
him  that  he  has  secured  a  substitute,  and  is  off  duty  for  a, 
few  weeks,  for  the  purpose  of  attending  a  course  of  lectures 
here  in  the  city  on  surgery,  and  also  to  give  himself  a  little 
rest  which  he  much  needed.  His  only  home  is  at  a  hotel, 
and  he  has  no  friends  here.  I  invited  him  to  visit  us  as 
freely  as  his  pursuits  would  allow,  and  assured  him  he  would 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  283 

always  be  welcomed  by  my  family.  So  I  hope  we  shall  see 
him  here  frequently." 

Jessie  watched  Mayon  with  jealous  eye,  for  her  brother 
Carlos'  sake,  and  was  annoyed  to  see  her  face  crimson  either 
with  embarrassment  or  pleasure.  INIayon  was  saved  the 
necessity  of  a  direct  reply,  for  all  became  much  interested  in 
their  prospective  acquaintance,  and  conversation  was  very 
brisk.  So  it  came  about  that  Dr.  Saxon  was  again  much 
thrown  into  Mayon 's  society,  and  again  his  presence  had  the 
same  influence  over  her  as  in  that  sick-chamber  miles  away. 
And  when  the  house  in  the  city  was  closed  and  its  inmates 
occupied  a  cottage  on  a  rocky  part  of  the  shore,  Dr.  Saxon 
followed  them  there.  It  soon  became  evident  to  all  eyes 
that  Mayon  was  the  magnet  that  attracted  him.  Lillian  and 
Jessie  complained  that  he  deprived  them  of  Mayon's  com- 
pany much  too  often.  Jessie  was  really  quite  disappointed  at 
prospect  of  Mayon's  future.  But  Mayon  herself  was  per- 
fectly unconscious  of  their  feelings  on  the  subject,  for  into 
her  life  there  had  come  something  of  more  absorbing  interest 
than  consideration  for  these  friends. 

These  were  delightful  days  to  Mayon.  Life  on  the  sea- 
shore, in  itself,  was  something  new  to  her,  and  the  picturesque 
scenery,  the  water,  the  sea-breeze,  the  boats  and  bathing, 
were  fresh  delights.  Little  excursions,  in  small  parties,  were 
daily  made  to  some  point  of  interest ;  beaches  were  searched 
for  shells,  islands  explored;  and  short  sailing  trips  taken. 
In  short,  Mayon's  first  visit  to  the  sea-shore  gave  her  perfect 
happiness. 

One  day  she  had  stolen  away  from  the  others  and  climbed 
down  the  steep  rock  that  jutted  out  into  the  water  near  the 
cottage,  and  seating  herself  in  a  cleft  in  the  rock,  with  book 
in  hand,  settled  lierself  to  read,  where  the  music  of  the  splash- 
ing waves  just  below  her,  and  the  occasional  sound  of  the 
oars  and  the  voices  of  the  oarsmen  of  passing  boats,  were  all 


284  ELDER  northfield's  home;  or, 

that  disturbed  the  quiet  of  the  place.  She  did  not  open  her 
book,  however,  but  unconsciously  began  singing  softly  a  song 
of  the  sea.  Soon  she  saw  a  boat  approaching  her,  rowed  by 
Dr.  Saxon,  who  was  its  only  occupant. 

"  Mayon,"  said  he,  "  will  you  come  down  and  get  into  my 
boat?  The  day  is  lovely,  and  the  tide  just  right  for  a  visit 
to  Shell  Island.  Let  us  row  there  and  explore  it  in  advance 
of  the  others." 

Mayon  complied  with  his  request,  and  just  as  they  began 
to  speed  away  from  the  shore  a  shrill,  childish  voice  screamed: 
"  Mayon,  Mayon,  we  want  to  go  too.  Do  come  back  and  take 
Daisy  and  me,"  and  looking  back  there  stood  the  little  twin 
brother  and  sister,  their  arms  extended  beseechingly  towards 
the  boat. 

Dr.  Saxon  turned  his  boat  in  the  direction  of  the  children, 
then  said  :  "  Mayon,  the  boat  is  too  light  to  take  them  too." 
Then  he  shouted  :  "  Dot,  I  will  take  you  and  Daisy  out  when 
I  return ;  won't  that  do  ?  " 

But  they  turned  disappointedly  away.  Dr.  Saxon  watched 
them,  regretfully,  out  of  sight,  but  sympathy  for  their  little 
woes  was  soon  forgotten.  "  Mayon,"  said  he,  when  well 
away  from  shore,  "  sing  me  the  song  you  were  softly  singing 
on  the  rock." 

Mayon  did  so,  and  many  more  followed,  in  some  of  which 
he  accompanied  her.  An  hour  passed  rapidly,  and  then 
Mayon  inquired  if  they  were  nearing  the  island.  It  was 
nowhere  in  sight.  The  sea  was  very  still,  the  waves  gently 
rocking  the  light  boat  in  their  bed,  the  sun  reflecting  its 
beautiful  rays  in  the  water.  The  air  was  fine,  though  the 
day  was  calm  and  still,  and  all  nature  seemed  at  once  grand, 
serene  and  beautiful.  At  length  Dr.  Saxon  observed  a  cloud 
in  the  horizon,  and  watched  it  a  little  anxiously,  pulling 
swiftly  in  the  direction  of  the  island.  But  the  cloud  grew 
rapidly  in  size,  and  soon  had  spread  over  the  whole  sky, 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  285 

completely  obscuring  the  sun  from  sight.  It  grew  very  dark, 
and  Dr.  Saxon  pulled  the  slight  oars  with  strong  arms  and 
the  boat  glided  swiftly  over  the  waves.  Silently  they  sat 
looking  at  each  other  and  the  approaching  storm.  Peals  of 
thunder  rent  the  air.  The  sharp  flash  of  lightning  terrified 
Mayon  for  the  first  time  in  her  life.  A  strong  gale  of  wind 
tossed  the  little  boat  to  and  fro,  and  the  oars  were  almost 
powerless  to  guide  it.  Large  drops  of  rain  began  to  fall. 
The  air  had  suddenly  changed,  and  the  chill  of  night,  which 
was  coming  on,  added  to  the  cool  wind  and  the  rain,  caused 
Mayon  to  shiver  with  cold.  Darker  and  darker  it  grew. 
Fiercer  the  waves  dashed  and  tossed  their  frail  craft. 
Louder  was  the  crash  of  thunder  and  the  rain  seemed  to 
fall  in  torrents,  and,  by  Dr.  Saxon's  direction,  Mayon  com- 
menced to  bale  out  the  water  that  fell  into  the  boat  as  fast 
as  she  could.  Each  felt  that  they  were  working  for  dear 
life.  The  island  was  now  just  discernible  in  tlie  distance, 
and  with  the  cheering  sight  of  land  ahead  the  strong  arms 
that  plied  the  oars  increased  the  speed  of  the  boat,  till  sud- 
denly there  was  a  sharp  snap,  and  one  oar  was  broken,  just 
below  the  oar-locks.  In  the  sudden  whirl  that  this  gave  the 
boat  it  was  nearly  upset,  and  Dr.  Saxon  looked  with  agony 
at  the  white,  calm  face  of  his  companion,  fearing  she  v.'ould 
immediately  disappear  beneath  the  waves.  But  the  boat 
righted,  and  was  now  carried  by  the  wind  and  waves  directly 
away  from  the  island,  for  one  oar  and  a  broken  piece  were 
powerless  to  resist  the  mighty  currents  of  wind  and  water. 

There  was  no  course  now  but  for  tliem  to  drift  with  the 
tide  and  watch  and  wait.  Dr.  Saxon  laid  aside  the  remnants 
of  his  oars  and  relieved  Mayon  of  her  task.  At  last  the  rain 
lessened  and  finally  ceased  to  fall,  but  tlie  strong  wind  and 
high  waves  were  carrying  them  far  from  home  and  friends. 
There  was  no  doubt  they  were  drifting  far  out  to  sea,  in  the 
darkness  of  night,  with  no  eye  to  pity,  no  arm  to  save. 


286  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's    HOME;    OR, 

The  billows  increased  in  size,  as  tlie}^  were  carried  farther 
and  farther  from  shore,  and  the  end  of  it  all  seemed  only  a 
question  of  time.  Scarcely  a  word  had  been  spoken  till  now, 
for  while  there  was  any  effort  to  be  made  for  life  there  was 
no  time  to  talk,  but  now  all  efforts  to  save  themselves  were 
useless.  There  was  utterly  nothing  they  could  do.  They 
could  only  accept  their  fate  whatever  it  might  be.  Dr.  Saxon 
now  drew  ^layon  to  him,  and  wrapping  around  her  an  old 
blanket,  which  had  been  stowed  away  in  the  bow  of  tlie 
boat,  and  of  which  some  parts  were  dry,  he  put  liis  arms 
firmly  around  her,  and  held  her  closely  to  himself,  that  her 
drenched  and  dulled  form  might  be  warmed  by  contact 
v^'ith  his  own  body.  Mayon  realized  that  it  was  no  time  for 
prudish  scruples,  and  she  was  perishing  from  cold;  there- 
fore she  unhesitatingly  accepted  the  only  relief  that  could 
be  given  her. 

"  Mavon,"  said  her  companion,  "  do  you  realize  our  con- 
dition?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mayon:  "I  believe  that  we  must  perish 
soon." 

"  Mayon,  dearest  INIayon,  do  you  forgive  me  for  being  the 
cause  of  this?  I  would  give  my  life  to  be  able  to  place  you 
safely  on  land.  Why  did  I  venture  out  in  this  frail  boat! 
0,  Mayon,  can  you  forgive  me?  " 

'•  There  is  nothing  to  forgive.  You  did  not  think  of  this 
result.     Please  do  not  blame  yourself,"  answered  Mayon. 

At  liis  words  of  endearment,  which  tilled  her  with  hap- 
piness, even  with  death  staring  her  in  the  face,  Mayon's 
heart  beat  so  heavily  that  her  companion,  as  he  held  lier 
closely  to  himself,  felt  its  wild  palpitation,  and  he  said  : 
"  Mayon,  since  my  eyes  first  looked  into  yours,  I  have  loved 
you  and  longed  to  call  you  mine.  Although  I  have  felt  I 
had  no  right  to  speak,  yet  now  our  hours  are  numbered,  and 
you  can  never  be  mine  in  life,  yet  we  can  die  together;  and 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE    MORMON    ALTAR.  287 

will  you  not  give  yourself  to  me,  and  be  mine  till  death 
comes — mine  now — mine  in  death — and  mine  in  eternity  ? 
Will  you  give  yourself  to  me,  0  ^layon,  tell  me!"  and 
convulsively  the  arms  tightened  their  grasp,  and  Mayon 
whispered  : 

"  Yes." 

"And  if  God  in  his  mercy  should  interpose  in  our  behalf, 
of  which  I  have  no  hope,  if,  ^layon,  by  any  possibility,  we 
are  saved,  will  you  be  mine  in  life,  Mayon,  too?  I  did  not 
mean  to  ask  you  yet.  Perhaps  I  have  no  right,  but  I  love 
you,  Mayon.     Will  you  be  mine,  if  we  are  saved?  " 

Mayon's  answer  was  to  slip  her  hand  in  his,  and  thus  in 
the  darkness  of  night,  with  the  angry  billows  ready  to  swal- 
low them  in  their  fierce  grasp,  with  the  thought  that  every 
large  wave  they  saw  approaching  might  prove  to  be  their 
death  shroud — thus  these  two  were  betrothed.  Half  the  sting 
of  death  was  removed,  as  they  felt  that  though  in  all  proba- 
bility they  must  die,  yet  they  would  die  together.  In  his 
own  arms  Dr.  Saxon  now  held  his  treasure,  which  had  be- 
come priceless  to  him  in  the  days  of  her  unselfish  devotion 
to  another,  and  even  death  could  not  wrest  her  from  him. 
The  words,  "till  deatli  doth  part,"  would  never  be  used  to 
bind  them  in  marriage,  and  they  had  no  force,  for  death 
could  not  i)art  them. 

Mayon  thousi;ht  of  her  mother  and  all  her  dear  ones,  and 
in  the  solemn  hour  that  followed  it  seemed  to  each  that  his 
or  her  lifetime  Avas  lived  over  again.  Calmly  and  peacefully 
these  two — one  in  heart — waited  for  death.  But  suddenly  a 
glimmer  of  light  was  seen  in  the  distance.  A  corresponding 
glimmer  of  hope  came  into  their  hearts,  and  departed  as 
suddenly  jis  the  light  departed.  Again  the  liglit  \v:;s  seen. 
This  time  it  was  visible  for  a  lonu'er  period,  and  at  iritervals 
it  appeared  and  disappeared,  till  at  last  it  was  constantly 
shining  away  in  the  distance,  and  Dr.  Saxon  exclaimed : 


288  '  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

"  Mayon,  I  believe  we  are  saved  !  "  Then  releasing  her  from 
his  grasp,  he  shouted  with  all  his  might  for  help.  He  did 
not  hear  any  reply,  but  at  intervals  continued  his  cry,  and, 
at  last,  a  faint  shout  was  heard  in  the  distance,  and  ere  long 
a  cry  of  joy  escaped  their  lips,  as  a  large,  strong  boat  rode 
safely  through  the  billows,  and  they  knew  that  they  were 
saved. 

As  Dr.  Saxon  and  Mayon  did  not  return  at  nightfall,  their 
friends  became  alarmed,  especially  on  the  coming  up  of  the 
shower,  and  several  boats,  rowed  by  skilful  men,  put  out  to 
sea  in  the  direction  Dot  and  Daisy  said  the  little  boat  had 
taken.  Anxiously  waited  the  friends  on  shore.  Mrs.  Ber- 
nard and  Lillian  and  Jessie  could  only  watch  and  listen  and 
pray  God  to  speed  and  guide  the  boats  for  their  friends'  de- 
liverance. And  as  the  night  wore  on,  and  they  saw  the 
lights  of  the  returning  boats,  they  flew  to  the  water's  edge ; 
and  when  at  last  the  boat  reached  the  wharf,  and  i\Iayon  was 
once  more  in  their  arms,  they  wept  for  joy.  Mayon  was  ill 
a  few  days,  in  consequence  of  her  exposure  and  excitement, 
and  unable  to  leave  her  bed,  but  immediately  on  her  re- 
covery they  all  returned  to  New  York. 

Dr.  Saxon's  relation  to  Mayon  was  now^  known  to  her 
friends.  All  were  pleased  save,  perhaps,  Jessie;  but  she 
bravely  tried  to  conquer  her  disappointment,  and,  to  her 
credit,  be  it  said,  that  her  congratulations  to  Mayon  were  no 
1-33  sincere  and  heartfelt  than  those  of  the  others.  But  it  was 
a  sad  task  she  set  herself  to  write  the  news  to  Carlos,  and 
very  tcr.dcrly  and  considerately  she  tried  to  perform  it.  Dr. 
Saxon's  dnys  of  res])ite  from  labor  were  now  over,  and  he 
returned  to  his  professional  duties. 


SACRIFICED  ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  289 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

ALL  this  time,  though  Edith  had  been  urgently  invited 
to  join  the  Bernards  at  their  cottage  by  the  sea,  yet 
she  remained  with  her  country  friends,  and  led  a  peaceful, 
happy  life,  forming  a  strong  affection  for  the  family  and  es- 
pecially her  little  charges.  She  had  long  ago  procured,  ac- 
cording to  Mormon  practice,  a  divorce  from  Mr.  Northfield, 
although  she  did  not  consider  herself  his  lawful  wife.  But 
she  wished  the  connection  to  be  severed  in  the  eyes  of  her 
Mormon  friends.  She  steadfastly  refused  a  maintenance  at 
her  so-called,  husband's  hands,  which  he  kindly  offered  her, 
and  heartily  wished  her  to  accept.  She  always  respected 
him,  and  was  extremely  grateful  for  his  consideration,  but 
kindly  and  firmly  declined  to  be  dependent  upon  him.  As 
the  summer  days  were  waning  she  had  allowed  her  thoughts 
to  carry  her  back  to  the  days  of  her  childhood,  and  she  lived 
over  in  imagination  the  scenes  of  her  life  in  Mormonism. 
Those  days  were  dark,  but  not  all  dark.  There  was  a  time 
when  something  of  the  love  and  hope  that  came  into  other 
girls'  lives  was  hers  also.  There  once  was  one  who  came  to 
her  bringing  with  him  joy  and  teaching  her,  though  perhaps 
unconsciously,  to  hope  for  a  life  with  him  in  the  Gentile 
world.  And  on  one  evening,  while  alone  in  her  chamber, 
she  feil  to  wondering  where  her  Gentile  friend  might  be,  and 
whether  he  had  entirely  forgotten  the  poor,  sick  Mormon 
girl,  who  drank  in  so  eagerly  the  knowledge  she  was  thirst- 
ing for.  Did  he  ever  bestow  one  thought  on  her  now  ?  He 
had  faithfully  fulfilled  the  request  her  father  had  forced  her 
19 


290 

to  make  that  he  would  never  see  her  again.  Edith  longed 
to  know  v/hether  he  received  this  letter  with  any  degree  of 
pain,  and  if  a  brighter  life  might  have  been  hers  had  her 
father  not  thus  cruelly  treated  her. 

While  she  was  sadly  pondering  on  her  life,  letters  were 
brought  up  to  her,  and  opening  one  from  Mayon,  who 
never  forgot  or  ceased  to  love  Edith,  with  whom  she  con- 
stantly corresponded,  she  read  the  announcement  of  her 
engagement  to  Dr.  Will  Saxon.  Dr.  Saxon's  name  had  before 
been  mentioned  in  Mayon's  letters;  but  though  Edith 
thought  of  the  Dr.  Saxon  who  was  her  friend  of  Salt  Lake 
City,  yet  the  whole  name  never  before  had  been  mentioned 
to  her,  and  she  did  not  suppose  for  a  moment  that  the  two 
were  identical.  Now,  however,  at  the  information,  evidently 
written  with  so  much  happiness,  Edith  almost  gasped  for 
breath.  Was  it  the  Dr.  Will  Saxon  that  she  had  loved  so 
long  ago,  and  now  realized  that  she  still  loved  ?  Could  it 
be  that  Mayon  was  to  marry  her  Gentile  friend  of  old?  0, 
why  had  she  been  so  foolish  as  to  remember  him  with  such 
feelings  ?  But  it  might  not  be  the  same — she  would  read  on 
and  perhaps  learn.  When,  however,  Mayon  spoke  of  his 
having  spent  some  months  in  Salt  Lake  City  in  the  beginning 
of  his  medical  career,  all  Edith's  little  hope  was  gone.  She 
then  realized  for  the  first  time  how  strong  a  hold  this  man 
had  gained  on  her  affections,  and  how  she  had  cherished, 
through  all  these  years,  secret  thoughts  of  him.  Somehow 
she  felt  that  a  blank  had  come  into  her  life  now.  Something 
she  hardly  knew  existed  had  been  taken  from  her,  and 
Mayon's  happiness  was  the  cause  of  Edith's  silent,  unknown 
heartache.  Doubtless  he  had  never  cared  for  her  as  she  had 
for  him,  and  now  she  felt  a  secret  shame  that  she  had  been 
so  easily  won,  and  resolved  to  conquer  her  foolish  sentiment, 
which  had  been  so  long-lived.  No  one  should  ever  suspect, 
by  her  word  or  manner,  that  it  ever  existed.     Within  her 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  291 

own  heart  it  must  be  crucified  and  buried,  and  Edith  went 
on  with  lier  quiet,  useful  life,  and  no  one  knew  the  cause  of 
her  increased  quietness  and  gentleness,  and  the  approach  to 
the  sadness  of  her  first  days  in  the  Gentile  world. 

But  Dr.  Will  Saxon  had  cared  for  Edith,  and  in  all  the  ef- 
forts which  he  had  made  in  those  days  to  shake  off  his  affec- 
tion for  her,  which  by  her  letter  she  evidently  did  not  return, 
he  had  failed.  He  had  been  deceived  in  her,  and  from  her 
own  words  it  was  evident  she  never  wished  to  meet  him  again. 
He,  at  times,  almost  resolved  to  disregard  her  request  and 
boldly  seek  to  win  her  and  save  her  from  the  Mormon  life 
which  she  so  hated.  But  no;  he  had  been  deceived,  and  he 
would  obey  her  request  and  would  not  add  to  the  sorrows 
of  her  unhappy  life  by  forcing  his  presence  upon  her.  He 
would  forget  her  in  the  absorption  of  his  professional  inter- 
ests. He  returned  to  his  eastern  home  and  plunged  with  all 
his  strength  of  mind  and  heart  into  his  profession.  And 
though  Edith  had  no  rival  in  his  heart,  yet  by  the  power  of 
will  and  determination,  in  time  he  had  nearly  forced  him- 
self to  forget  her.  Mayon's  attractions  at  last  won  his  heart, 
and  she  was  installed  in  the  place  once  devoted  to  Edith. 
Mayon  had  told  him  of  her  friend  Edith,  but  never  men- 
tioned her  girlhood  name,  and  in  turn  he  had  told  her  of  a 
Mormon  girl  he  had  known  and  loved  by  that  name. 
Neither,  however,  suspected  tlie  truth,  for  it  did  not  occur 
to  Dr.  Saxon  that  Mayon's  father  would  take  a  wife  almost 
as  young  as  Mayon,  and  it  was  in  complete  ignorance  of  the 
pain  she  was  giving  to  Edith  that  Mayon  confidingly  told 
her  of  her  joys  and  hopes. 

Mayon  had  requested  that  her  marriage  might  be  deferred 
for  a  time,  with  the  hope  teat  her  father  and  mother  would 
leave  the  Mormons  and  come  to  the  East  before  that  event 
took  place.  She  earnestly  wished  her  father  might  be  the 
one  to  give  her  away,  and  that  her  mother  should  be  present 


292  ELDER   NORTIIFIELD's   HOME  ;   OF., 

when  the  daughter  whom  she  had  loved  so  Vv'ell  and  for 
"svhom  she  had  sacrificed  so  mucli  took  this  step. 

Dr.  Saxon  agreed  to  Mayon's  request,  and  they  were  now 
separated.  Jessie  had  also  returned  to  her  home,  and  May  on 
was  not  a  little  lonely.  Dr.  Saxon's  duties  would  not  allow 
him  to  visit  his  promised  wife  often,  and  she  could  only 
solace  herself  with  the  letters  for  which  he  always  could  lind 
time,  even  in  the  greatest  demand  upon  his  professional  skill. 

With  great  difficulty  he  succeeded  in  getting  release  from 
his  practice  for  a  day  or  two,  that  he  might  visit  his 
friends  with  whom  he  had  made  his  home.  These  friends 
had  consisted  of  an  uncle  named  James  Saxon,  and  wife,  and 
a  maiden  aunt,  Julia,  sister  to  James.  The  uncle  was  now 
dead,  and,  as  he  left  no  children,  the  elderly  people  naturally 
leaned  upon  their  nephew,  and  bestowed  upon  him  their 
affection.  His  uncle  had  educated  him  for  his  profession, 
and  treated  him  in  every  way  like  a  son.  In  one  respect, 
however,  the  young  man  always  felt  that  injustice  was  done 
him.  Although  assured  that  he  was  James  Saxon's  nephew, 
he  never  could  learn  from  either  of  the  three  one  word  fur- 
ther on  the  subject  of  his  relation  to  them,  or  anything  con- 
cerning his  parents  or  birth.  He  felt  that  it  was  his  right  to 
know  about  these  matters,  and  harbored  many  bitter  thoughts 
against  those  who  defrauded  him  of  the  knowledge.  Whether 
of  honorable  or  dishonorable  birth  he  knew  not,  but  strongly 
feared  the  latter,  as  they  so  persistently  refused  to  inform 
him  on  the  subject.  Once,  in  private  conversation,  his  uncle 
said,  when  he  had  arrived  at  a  certain  age,  he  would  tell 
him  all  he  wished  to  know;  but  before  that  time  came,  James 
Saxon  had  died,  and  his  wife  and  sister  refused  to  give  to 
Will  the  information  which  now,  more  than  ever,  he  felt  it 
was  liis  right  to  receive.  He  harbored  much  bitterness  to- 
wards them  on  this  account,  though,  except  for  that,  there 
was  a  great  degree  of  affection  and  confidence  between  tliem. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  293 

Since  he  liad  known  JVIayon  and  loved  her,  he  was  more 
anxions  thiin  ever  to  learn  about  his  birth  and  parents,  and 
determined  that  his  lips  should  be  sealed  to  her  till  he  had 
gained  this  knowledge.  If  he  found  that  he  was  of  honor- 
able descent,  and  could  offer  her  a  stainless  name,  then  ho> 
would  ask  her  to  be  his.  If  not,  he  would  go  many  miles 
away  and  try  to  forget  her,  for  he  would  not  ask  jMayon  to 
stoop  to  marry  a  man  who  could  not  bear  his  father's  name. 
Therefore  he  had  refrained  from  saying  one  word  to  her 
which  might  compromise  him  in  her  eyes,  if  the  worst  was 
true.  But  this  had  not  deceived  her,  for  he  could  not  dis- 
guise from  Mayon  his  affection  for  her.  At  last,  with  the 
prospect  of  an  immediate  death  before  them,  there  could  be 
no  reason  why  his  tongue  should  keep  silence  longer,  at  least 
she  might  be  his  in  death,  and  he  yielded  to  the  great  long- 
ing of  his  heart,  and  Mayon  became  his.  Now  that  they 
were  saved,  however,  he  was  very  much  troubled  that  he  had 
allowed  himself  to  speak  prematurely,  and  resolved  again  to 
vehemently  demand  of  his  aunts  a  knowledge  of  his  birth, 
and  with  this  end  in  view  he  set  out  for  the  only  home  he 
had  ever  known. 

One  day  Mayon  returned  from  a  ride  with  Lillian  and 
her  aunt,  her  cheeks  aglow  w^ith  healtli,  her  eyes  sparkling 
with  tlie  pleasure  of  lier  drive.  On  entering,  to  her  surprise 
and  joy,  she  found  Dr.  Saxon;  but  though  his  greeting  was 
all  she  could  wish,  there  w-as  such  a  look  of  sadness  and 
grief  in  his  face,  and  so  much  misery  in  his  tones,  that  she 
was  instantly  alarmed,  and  inquired  the  cause. 

"I  can  scarcely  tell  you,  Mayon,"  said  he.  "  My  own 
loved  one,  can  you  bear  trouble,  greater  perhaps  than  you 
ever  knew,  and  c;in  you  pity  and  forgive  me,  who  has 
brought  it  to  you?  " 

"0,  yes,"  said  Mayon,  her  heart  sinking  with  fear;  "but 
how  can  you  have  brought  trouble  upon  me?  Is  it  my 
mother — my  father  ?     Tell  me  quickly.     I  can  bear  it," 


294  ELDER   NORTHFIELd's   HOME  ;   OR, 

Her  face  T\-as  blanched  with  dread,  her  eyes  distended 
witii  fear,  but  her  lips  were  set  with  a  firm  determination  to 
endure  with  fortitude  the  blow  she  knew  was  about  to  fall 
upon  her.  Dr.  Saxon  seized  Mayon's  hands  passionately, 
and,  looking  into  her  face  witli  unutterable  pain,  he  said : 

^'  Mayon,  we  can  never  marry.  I  have  found  out  what  I 
have  all  my  life  longed  to  know,  and  the  result  must  be  our 
separation.  Perhaps  not  quite  that,  but  you  can  never  be 
■my  wife,  for,  J^Iayon,  do  not  be  too  much  shocked  when  I 
tell  you  that  you  are  my  sister!  I  can  never  be  your  hus- 
band, for  I  am  your  brother.  Your  father  is  my  father, 
too." 

^fayon  exclaimed,  with  horror,  "No,  no,  no!  that  cannot 
be  !  What  are  3'ou  saying?  "  and  she  pressed  her  hands  to 
her  temples,  and  wildly  walked  the  room.  "My  father  3'our 
father,  too!     Will,  that  is  impossible.     Are  you  insane?  " 

''  No,  Mayon,  I  am  only  too  sane.  It  is  too  true.  I  never 
knew  what  my  parentage  was  till  now.  I  never  meant  to 
ask  you  to  be  my  wife  till  I  knew,  and  not  then  unless  I 
could  offer  you  an  honorable  name;  but  on  that  terrible 
night,  when  death  was  seemingly  about  to  obliterate  all  in- 
equalities between  us  in  station  or  birth,  I  yielded  to  the 
temptation  of  the  hour,  and  thus  I  have  terribly  wronged 
the  one  I  loved  as  I  never  loved  human  being  before.  But, 
thank  God,  there  is  no  disgrace  attached  to  my  birth.  You 
cannot  be  n^y  wife,  but  you  need  not  blusli  to  cnll  mo 
brother."  And  the  young  man,  in  spite  of  his  grief,  drew 
himself  proudly  up  with  a  new  sense  of  his  manliness. 

"But,  Will,"  said  Mayon  in  a  subdued,  plaintive  tone,  as 
she  scarcely  realized  the  situation,  "how  can  it  be?  I  do 
not  understand  it.  Tell  me,  please,  and  wh}-  have  they  kept 
you  ignorant?" 

"  Yes,  why  have  they?  I  could  almost  curse  them  for  it," 
said  he,  fiercely.     "  I  will  try  to  tell  you  the  whole,  Mayon. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  295 

I  have  learned  most  of  this  from  my  aunt  and  my  uncle's 
wife,  but  have  corresponded  with  your  father — my  father — 
and  thus  corroborated  the  truth  of  their  statements.     It 
seems  that  wlien  Henry  Northfield,  then  a  very  young  man, 
first  embraced  Mormonism  in  England,  he  secretly  married 
a  girl  named  Saxon,  whose  friends  were  very  much  opposed 
to  him  on  account  of  his  religion,  and  who  hated  all  Mor- 
mons.    He  was  immediately  ordained  elder,  and  sent  to  a  ' 
distant  part  of  England  to  preach.     He  parted  with  grief 
from  his  young  bride,  regarding  it  his  duty  to  leave  all  for 
the  religion  he  had  espoused.     They  corresponded  secretly, 
however,  for  nearly  a  year — he  constantly  hoping  his  superior 
in  the  church  would  allow  him  to  return  to  his  home  and 
wife ;  but  obedience  to  them  was  his  first  object,  and  he 
proved  too  successful  a  missionary  to  be  recalled  from  his 
labors.     When  nearly  a  year  had  passed,  the  friends  of  his 
wife  informed  him  that  she  had  died  at  the  birth  of  her  cliild, 
telling  them  of  the  circumstances  of  her  marriage,  and  pro- 
ducing proof  and  sending  loving  messages  to  her  absent 
husband.     The  letter  was  written  in  a  way  to  mislead  him 
and  give  him  to  understand  that  the  child  was  also  dead. 
He  never  spoke  to  any  one  of  this  marriage,  for  his  wife  had 
bound  him  by  a  promise  never  to  disclose  it  till  she  gave  her 
consent.    She  never  could  release  him  now  from  his  promise, 
therefore  he  was  forever  silent,  notwithstanding  that  she 
herself  had  confessed  it  to  her  friends.    His  wife  was  already 
buried  when  her  friends  wrote  of  her  death,  and  it  was  two 
years  before  he  left  his  missionary  work  and  visited  her 
grave  and  her  friends  to  learn  all  he  could  of  her  last  days. 
His  little  son  was  secreted  from  him  by  the  friends  of  the 
child's  mother,  for  the  reason  that  they  knew  he  would  be 
brought  up  a  Mormon  if  his  father  discovered  and  took  pos- 
session of  him,  and  they  were  too  much  attached  to  him  to 
willingly  part  with  him.     Therefore  they  kept  the  father  in 


236  ELDEPv  xortitfield's  home  ;  OR, 

ignorance  of  his  son's  existence,  and  soon  sailed  with  him 
to  America.  Not  long  after  this  Henry  Northfield  met  and 
married  your  mother,  keeping  secret  even  from  her  his 
former  marriage.  That  poor  young  wife,  who  died  Avhile 
lier  liushand  was  many  miles  away,  was  my  mother,  and  I 
am  the  cliild  who  has  heen  defrauded  of  my  name,  my 
father  and  my  wife.  Notwithstanding  that  my  fatlier  was  a 
Mormon,  and  that  I  would  in  all  probability  become  one 
also,  yet  I  think  they  (believing,  however,  that  they  were 
acting  for  the  best)  committed  a  great  wrong.  If  they  had 
informed  me  on  my  entering  manhood,  they  would  have 
been  more  pardonable,  and  all  this  mischief  would  have 
been  prevented.  I  only  learned  since  I  left  you,  by  demand- 
ing of  them  that  they  should  tell  me,  and  telling  tliem  of 
my  engagement  to  Mayon  Northfield.  Then  in  horror,  as 
they  learned  whose  daughter  you  were,  they  told  me  the 
whole  story.  I  wrote  to  your  father  to  discover  positively 
if  he  were  my  father  too,  and  his  answer  leaves  no  room  for 
doubt.  So,  ]Ma3^on,  all  our  hopes  are  blasted,  and  we  have 
now  only  to  love  each  other  as  brother  and  sister.  But  there 
is  some  comfort,  at  least  to  me,  in  the  thought  that  the  dis- 
covery I  have  always  desired  to  make  need  not  alienate  us 
from  each  other.  Though  the  strongest  human  tie  can  never 
bind  us,  yet  we  are  bound  together  by  a  strong  natural 
tie,  and  my  darling  Mayon  is  my  sister,  if  never  my  wife. 
Dear  sister,  do  you  forgive  me  for  bringing  all  this  trouble 
on  you — for  winning  your  heart  and  hand  before  I  had  a 
right  to  do  so?" 

"  0,  Will,  do  not  say  forgive — forgive  is  not  the  word  ;  say 
pity,  for  you  deserve  nothing  but  pity  for  it  all.  God  will 
help  us  to  bear  it,  and  in  time  we  shall  forget  our  disap- 
pointment in  our  brotherly  and  sisterly  love.  There  is  much 
to  comfort  us,  Will,  in  the  knowledge  that  we  are  closely 
related,  and  our  affection  can  continue  as  strong  as  ever. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    MORMON   ALTAR.  297 

Will,  it  might  have  been  worse — indeed,  much  worse.  Let 
us  try  to  feel  that  God  orders  all  things  for  the  best." 

"  You  are  a  blessed  girl,  IMayon,  and  I  will  try  with  all  a 
brother's  power  to  make  you  happy,  to  atone  for  the  trouble 
I  have  brought  upon  you.  Here  is  the  letter  your  father — 
our  fatlier — wrote  me.     Shall  we  read  it  together?" 

They  did  so.  The  writer  expressed  surprise  and  joy  at  the 
knowledge  of  his  son's  existence,  and  described  his  indigna- 
tion at  first  at  knowing  the  deceit  that  had  been  practiced 
upon  him,  but  finally  expressing  gratitude  that  it  had  been 
so,  for  otherwise  his  firstborn  might,  like  his  second  son, 
have  been  a  staunch  Mormon,  and  although  a  Mormon  him- 
self in  name,  yet  he  regretted  that  Forest  was  what  he  was, 
and  felt  that  God  had  overruled  Will's  destiny  for  the  best. 
He  felt  that  the  relatives  of  Dr.  Saxon,  however,  had  acted 
very  wrongly  in  keeping  him  in  ignorance  of  his  history, 
and  deeply  regretted  and  blamed  them  for  the  continued 
deception  which  had  caused  such  grief  to  his  son,  and  must 
cause  the  same  to  his  daughter  when  she  learned  of  it. 

"  Poor  Mayon  ! ''  he  wrote,  "  I  hope  she  will  not  take  it  too 
hard.  She  seemed  so  happy,  as  in  her  letters  to  her  mother 
and  me  she  told  us  of  you.  God  bless  you  both,  my  chil- 
dren, and  grant  that  you  may  find  much  of  the  happiness 
as  brother  and  sister  that  you  expected  as  husband  and 
wife." 

Letters  to  Mayon  from  both  parents  were  enclosed  for 
her  to  read  directly  on  making  the  discovery.  She  perused 
them,  and  at  last  her  many  emotions  found  relief  in  tears. 
Dr.  Saxon  wept  with  her,  and  from  that  hour  they  began  to 
live  what  seemed  to  them  a  new  life,  and  a  purer,  stronger 
love  than  theirs  never  existed  between  brother  and  sister. 

In  a  few  days  Dr.  Saxon  returned  to  his  duties,  for  life 
to  him  was  no  holiday;  and  Mayon,  subdued  and  saddened 
by  the  change  in  her  life,  was  yet  not  made  miserable  by  it3 


298  ELDER    NORTHFIELD's   HOME  ;   OR, 

strange  results,  for  Will  was  still  hers  to  love  and  trust  and 
care  for  with  a  sister's  right.  The  discovery  was  kept  a 
secret  from  the  world  for  a  time,  Dr.  Saxon  retaining  the 
name  he  had  always  borne,  and  Mr.  Northfield  and  his  wife 
did  not  choose  to  inform  Forest  of  the  existence  of  a  half- 
brother  till  they  could  see  him  face  to  face.  This  they  ex- 
pected soon  to  do,  for  Forest  was  soon  to  come  home  for  a 
time;  but  the  Mormon  authorities  ruled  it  otherwise.  They 
desired  to  keep  him  away  from  the  influence  of  his  father, 
T\-ho  was  little  less  than  an  apostate,  for  they  could  ill  afford 
to  lose  so  useful  a  member  of  their  church  as  Forest  North- 
field.  He  was  informed  that  he  was  appointed  on  a  mission 
East,  and  was  instructed  to  proceed  immediately  to  New 
England  and  secure  all  the  converts  possible  and  gather 
them  into  Zion. 

With  the  same  missionary  zeal,  and  the  same  spirit 
of  obedience  to  the  church,  that  his  fiither  had  exercised 
ill  his  younger  days,  Forest  went  to  New  England,  and 
there  he  found  he  had  a  thorny  path  to  tread,  for  ]Mor- 
monism  was  so  obnoxious  to  the  people  that  he  met  with 
great  persecution.  In  some  towns  he  found  it  impossible 
to  preach  to  the  people,  for  he  could  not  procure  a  place 
of  any  description  in  which  to  hold  his  meetings.  In 
others  he  dared  not  remain  on  account  of  the  indignation 
of  the  people  against  him.  Indeed  he  felt  that  he  was  suf- 
fering many  and  severe  persecutions  for  the  Gospel's  sake; 
but  yet  he  persevered,  having  faith  that  God  would  bless 
him  and  his  labors.  In  some  towns  he  was  enabled  to  preach 
the  doctrine  of  the  Latter-Day  Saints,  for  a  few  would  go  to 
hear  a  Mormon  preach  as  ever  from  motives  of  curiosity, 
and  though  sneered  and  hissed  at,  and  pointed  out  with  de- 
rision, yet  as  he  went  from  place  to  place  he  went  with  the 
encouragement  that  now  and  then  a  convert  was  made, 
a  few  were  being  added  to  the  church  through  his  instru- 
mentality. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  299 

When  Mayon  learned  of  her  brother's  mission  East  she 
became  very  much  troubled,  and  feared  that  some  poor  girls 
would  be  ensnared  into  Mormonism  and  thus  their  lives  be 
forever  bliglited  as  Flora  Winchester's  had  been.  She  re- 
solved to  do  what  she  could  to  counteract  her  brother's  in- 
fluence, and  by  means  of  her  mother's  letters,  and  by  diligent 
writing  to  different  pLices  where  she  supposed  her  brother 
to  bc^  she  was  enabled  to  follow  him  in  most  of  his  move- 
ments. She  found  out  the  address  of  a  few  of  his  converts, 
and  wrote  to  them  stating  that  she  was  the  sister  of  the 
preacher  who  had  persuaded  them  into  the  Mormon  belief, 
and  setting  forth  the  horrors  of  Mormon  life,  as  she  well 
knew  how.  The  result  was  that  scarcely  one  adhered  to  the 
new  faith,  and  when  Forest  discovered  that  his  sister  was 
undoing  the  work  he  had  suffered  so  much  to  accomplish, 
his  wrath  was  terrible.  He  wrote  to  Mayon  the  most  angry, 
cruel  letter  a  brother  ever  penned  to  a  sister.  Although 
IMayon  was  very  much  grieved,  she  was  not  surj^rised.  She 
had  anticipated  the  consequences  before  she  began  the  work, 
for  she  well  knew  Forest's  devotion  to  his  religion  would 
outweigh  all  regard  for  herself.  He  resolved  to  go  far  from 
any  of  the  towns  in  which  he  had  labored,  and  acquaint 
no  person  with  his  destination,  hoping  that  thus  she  would 
be  unable  to  trace  him.  Accordingly  he  journe3^ed  many 
miles  north,  and  without  allowing  the  peojjle  at  first  to 
suspect  his  religion,  he  began  lecturing  in  a  ver}^  careful 
manner. 

It  happened  that  the  place  in  which  he  established  him- 
self was  one  of  those  old  retired  towns  among  the  moun- 
tains of  northern  New  England,  and  the  home  of  Dr.  Will 
Saxon  and  his  aunts.  Dr.  Saxon  had  been  called  home  en 
account  of  the  severe  sickness  of  his  aunt  Julia,  and  as  she 
continued  very  ill  he  was  obliged  to  remain  with  her.  Forest 
had  been  pleased  with  the  size  of  his  audiences  in  the  place, 


300  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

for  there  was  little  but  the  religious  service,  the  sewing  circle 
and  local  literary  society,  to  call  the  peoi)le  out  ordinarily, 
and  a  lecturer  was  seldom  seen  among  them.  Therefore  his 
meetings  were  an  object  of  not  a  little  interest.  He  had  fed 
his  liearers  on  the  "  milk  of  the  word,''  as  the  Mormons  called 
the  more  unobjectionable  doctrines  of  their  religion,  and  they 
had  received  it  with  little  opposition ;  but  on  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  "  strong  meat,"  or  more  radical  parts  of  their  be- 
lief, they  began  to  recoil  with  disgust.  But  Forest  was  too 
much  accustomed  to  the  disapprobation  of  the  body  of  the 
people  to  be  easily  discouraged,  and  Avas  preparing  for  a 
mighty  effort  for  success,  when  he  was  taken  suddenly  ill, 
and  Dr.  Saxon  was  called. 

Dr.  Saxon  experienced  strange  sensations  when  he  learned 
that  his  half-brother  was  in  the  place  lecturing  on  Mormon- 
ism,  but  ]ie  had  not  met  him,  for  he  had  been  too  closely 
confined  by  attendance  upon  his  aunt.  Now,  however,  as 
he  entered  the  room  and  saw  the  white  face  surmounted  by 
an  intelligent  forehead  and  a  mass  of  curly  light  brown  hair, 
met  the  glance  of  those  handsome  light  blue  eyes  and  real- 
ized that  it  was  the  face  of  his  brother  lying  on  the  pillow, 
it  was  with  no  small  effort  that  he  controlled  himself.  He 
longed  to  give  that  delicate  hand  a  brother's  grasp,  and  with 
a  brother's  influence  Avin  that  man  from  error.  But  no  one 
knew  that  he  took  more  than  ordinary  interest  in  his  patient. 
He  advised  his  removal  from  the  hotel  to  a  quieter  place, 
and  Forest  was  received  into  one  of  the  most  happy  and  re- 
fined families  in  New  England.  Each  member,  in  spite  of 
the  al)horrence  to  his  religion,  vied  with  tlie  other  in  minis- 
tering to  his  relief,  for  they  were  touched  with  sympathy  for 
his  sufferings,  and  strove  to  make  him  as  comfortable  as  it 
was  possible  for  him  to  be.  He  was  very  ill  for  a  few  days, 
and  then  began  to  recover. 

Now  he  had  ample  time  to  observe  the  domestic  relation 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  301 

of  Gentile  life,  the  first  he  had  ever  seen.  As  he  lay  upon 
his  couch  or  was  wheeled  about  in  an  easy-chair  by  the 
father,  mother  or  children,  two  or  three  of  whom  were  nearly 
grown  to  womanhood  and  manhood,  little  by  little  there 
came  over  him  a  sense  of  the  great  difference  between  the 
Gentile  homes  and  the  Mormon  homes:  between  the  appear- 
ances of  this  mother  and  his  own  mother,  whose  life  had 
been  robbed  of  its  happiness  by  Mormonism's  stern  decrees. 
He  witnessed  the  perfect  confidence  and  sympathy  tliat  ex- 
isted between  husband  and  wife,  the  affectionate  agreement 
of  the  young  brothers  and  sisters,  and  realized,  as  he  thought 
of  May  on — as  he  thought  of  all  that  had  passed  in  former 
years  between  his  parents — that  in  his  father's  family  there 
had  not  existed  any  approach  to  this  domestic  happiness. 
He  taxed  his  mind  to  recall  something  similar  in  the  Mor- 
mon world,  but  in  vain.  Never  had  he  seen  there  a  family 
so  happy  in  its  domestic  relation  as  his  father's,  and  that 
but  poorly  compared  with  this. 

Dr.  Saxon  was  now  able  to  devote  much  time  to  his 
patient,  and  soon  began  to  be  regarded  by  him  as  a  friend 
and  welcome  visitor.  He  gradually  and  gently  led  the  con- 
versation upon  religious  topics,  and  skilfully  aroused  Forest's 
curiosity  concerning  the  Gentile  faith  and  Gentile  institu- 
tions of  all  kinds.  Forest  was  soon  able  to  join  the  family 
at  the  morning  devotions,  and  as  the  word  of  God  was  read, 
and  a  simple,  earnest  prayer  offered ;  as  he  heard  the  family 
together  study  the  lesson  for  the  Sabbath-school,  he  longed 
to  know  more  of  the  religion  of  their  life — more  of  the  faith 
that  made  this  family  so  happy. 

Dr.  Saxon  rejoiced  as  he  realized  the  influence  that  was 
working  on  his  patient,  and  he  spent  many  hours  tr3^ing  to 
persuade  him  that  his  own  religion  was  a  false  one,  and  pro- 
viding him  with  all  the  books  he  was  able  to  read.  At 
length,  one  day,  when  he  had  nearly  recovered  sufficiently 


302  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;    OR, 

to  pursue  his  lectures,  Dr.  Saxon  entered,  and  Forest  ex- 
claimed : 

"Saxon,  I  have  made  up  my  mind  that  I  have  been  a 
fool  all  my  life,  and  that  m}^  father  has  been  a  fool  before 
me.  My  father  has  been  gradually  learning  to  see  his  life- 
long mistakes  for  many  months,  but  I — I  have  been  as  blind 
as  ever,  even  through  all  the  Mormon  wickedness  that  has 
disgusted  my  father.  I  lay  awake  all  last  night,  Saxon,  try- 
ing to  cling  to  my  old  religion,  but  I  have  this  morning  flung 
it  to  the  winds,  and  now  realize  with  shame  and  sorrow  that 
I  have  been  the  dupe  of  wicked  and  ignorant  men.  I  have 
been  a  useful  tool  in  their  hands,  and  would  have  been  still 
more  useful  to  them  had  it  not  been  for  the  interference  of 
that  noble  sister  of  mine.  Saxon,  you  cannot  tell  how  I 
hate  and  despise  myself  for  the  letter  I  wrote  her.  Poor 
Mayon!  she  has  had  troubles  enough  in  her  young  life,  with- 
out my  adding  to  them.  I  thank  God  now  that  she  wroto 
those  letters  and  undid  the  work  I  labored  so  hard  to  do." 

He  had  told  Dr.  Saxon  of  Mayon's  interference  in  his 
work,  and  in  turn  Saxon  had  told  him  of  his  acquaintance 
with  Mayon,  withholding  all  that  had  transpired  of  the 
greatest  interest  between  them,  however,  as  he  saw  that 
Forest  was  ignorant  that  any  engagement  had  existed.  His 
parents  were  about  to  write  to  him  the  news  from  Mayon, 
when  they  received  Dr.  Saxon's  letter,  and  therefore  sup- 
pressed the  whole.  Forest  thought  he  had  eluded  Mayon's 
vigilance  in  coming  here,  but  he  had  not,  for  his  physician 
had  written  every  few  days  informing  her  of  the  condition 
of  their  brother,  both  physically  and  mentally.  She  had 
forgotten  her  grief  in  the  joyful  news  that  Forest  was  being 
led  to  see  the  error  of  his  belief.  At  first,  on  learning  of  his 
illness,  she  wished  to  come  to  him,  but  Dr.  Saxon  advised 
her  not  to  do  so,  for  he  had  every  care  he  could  need,  and 
was  not  in  a  kindly  enough  mood  towards  her  to  be  bene- 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE    MORMON   ALTAR.  303 

filed  in  the  least  by  her  presence.  But  now,  when  Forest 
had  announced  in  this  positive  manner  his  conviction,  Dr. 
Saxon  felt  like  leaping  for  joy  for  Mayon's  s'ake;  and  still 
more  when  Forest  said: 

"  I  have  written  to  Mayon  to-day,  asking  her  to  come  and 
see  me.     Do  you  suppose  she  will  come?  " 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,  my  friend." 

"And  when  I  tell  her  that  henceforth  I  am  a  Gentile  and 
forever  renounce  Mormonism,  how  her  large,  dark  eyes  will 
shine  for  joy!  Do  you  know,  Saxon,  that  your  eyes  are 
precisely  like  Mayon's,  your  hair  is  like  hers,  and  somehow 
you  look  so  like  her  that  you  have  continually  brought  her 
before  my  mind;  and  when  I  was  very  weak  and  sick,  I 
sometimes  thought  it  was  Mayon  that  came  in  and  took  my 
hand  and  spoke  to  me.  Yes,  you  are  very  like  Mayon. 
Perhaps  that  is  why  I  have  become  so  fond  of  you.  I  re- 
member well  how,  when  we  were  children,  I  used  to  terrify 
the  child  by  explaining  the  most  frightful  of  our  doctrines ; 
and  now,  that  everything  looks  so  different  to  me,  I  do  not 
wonder  that  she  was  terrified.  I  do  not  wonder  that  she 
tried  to  counteract  the  effects  of  her  brother's  teachings,  or 
sought  to  win  the  poor  Mormon  girls  away  from  their  un- 
happy life.  0,  it  is  bitter  to  think  I  have  wasted  so  much 
of  my  time;  but  poor  father  must  feel  that  his  life  has  been 
wasted!  I  mean  to  go  home  as  soon  as  I  am  able  and  per- 
suade him  to  leave  them  all." 

Two  days  later  there  was  a  happy  meeting  in  Forest's 
room,  as  Mayon  there  met  with  her  two  brothers.  Never 
before  had  Forest  and  Mayon  been  in  such  sympathy  with 
each  other. 

"  Mayon,"  said  Forest,  "  Dr.  Saxon  has  proved  the  truest, 
best  friend  I  ever  knew.  He  has  been  the  means  of  freeing 
me  from  the  bondage  of  a  false  religion,  showed  me  the 
beauties  of  the  Gentile  life  by  bringing  me  into  this  family, 
and  if  he  were  my  brother,  I  could  not  love  him  more." 


304  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME)   OR, 

"  Forest,  let  me  tell  you  something  hitherto  a  secret  between 
us.     I  am  your  brother  !  " 

Forest  looked  at  him  in  amazement,  then  at  Mayon,  as  if 
trying  to  read  from  her  face  what  the  speaker  meant. 

"My  brotlier!  Saxon,  what  do  you  mean?"  and  Dr. 
Saxon  then  gave  Forest  the  whole  of  his  recently  learned 
history. 

At  the  close  Forest  grasped  him  by  the  hand  and  said : 

*'God  bless  you,  my  brother  Will!  and  I  thank  him  that 
you  are  my  brother,  for  you  might  never  have  been  the 
means  of  making  me  what  I  am,  if  it  had  not  been  so." 

In  a  few  days  Forest  started  for  Salt  Lake  City,  Mayon 
returned  to  New  York,  and  her  brotlier  Will  accompanied 
her,  for  he  was  again  to  spend  a  few  months  in  the  city  in 
pursuance  of  his  surgical  studies,  and  Mayon's  friends  in- 
sisted on  his  making  his  home  with  them. 


SACRIFICED  ON   THE  MORMON  ALTAR.  305 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

AFTER  a  few  weeks  Mayon  received  a  letter  from  Jessie, 
containing  an  urgent  request  for  a  visit  from  her.  As 
she  had  spent  but  very  little  time  with  them  for  a  year, 
she  accepted  the  invitation,  and  soon  old  scenes  were  re- 
visited, old  friendships  renewed,  and  old  intimacies  con- 
tinued. Mayon's  engagement  with  Dr.  Saxon  and  its 
peculiar  termination  were  known  to  these  friends,  and  in 
their  hearts  was  a  tender  feeling  towards  her  for  the  singular 
trial  she  had  passed  through.  Jessie  did  not  harbor  one 
exultant  or  hopeful  thought  for  Carlos,  but  was  a  nearer 
and  dearer  friend,  if  possible,  to  Mayon  than  ever.  Carlos 
was  not  at  home  now.  He  had  been  admitted  to  the  bar 
and  had  begun  to  practice,  bidding  fair  to  become  a  success- 
ful lawyer.  Mayon  missed  him  very  much,  and  after  a  time 
found  that  she  was  thinking  of  him,  and  their  walks,  drives 
and  talks,  a  great  deal.  The  place  scarcely  seemed  the  same 
without  him,  and  she  was  constantly  looking  forward  to  the 
time  when  he  was  expected  home  for  a  few  days. 

At  last  the  day  of  his  arrival  came,  and  the  whistle  of  the 
train  that  was  to  bring  him  had  been  heard  in  the  distance. 
But  it  did  not  reach  the  station.  A  shrill  whistle  to  down 
breaks,  a  sudden  crash,  and  cars  and  passengers  were  mingled 
in  one  broken  mass.  The  fortunates  who  escaped  were 
quickly  at  work,  and  among  the  forms  that  were  borne  on 
shutters  to  the  surrounding  houses  the  body  of  Carlos  was 
taken  to  his  home,  and  when  Mayon  saw  his  face,  apparently 
cold  in  death,  she  fainted,  and  was  carried  in  and  laid  on 
20 


306  ELDER    NORTHFIELd's   HOME;   OR 


Jessie's  bed.  Kind  friends  soon  restored  her,  and  when  they 
told  her  that  Carlos  had  only  fainted  from  loss  of  blood,  and 
that  though  very  Aveak,  yet  his  injuries  were  confined  to  a 
severe  flesh  wound  and  some  bruises,  from  which  he  would 
soon  recover,  Mayon  could  not  speak,  but  burying  her  face  in 
her  pillow  she  gave  vent  to  her  emotion  in  tears. 

It  was  not  long  before  she  was  again  walking  with  Carlos 
in  the  green  fields  and  beside  the  little  streams  that  abounded 
in  the  vicinity,  for  it  was  summer,  and  one  day  he  led  her 
to  the  same  mossy  bank  where  two  years  before  he  had  asked 
her  to  become  his  wife.  Then,  he  was  confused,  embarrassed 
and  absent-minded,  and  she  was  perfectly  composed  and 
unconscious  of  his  emotion.  Now,  as  he  asked  her  again  to 
be  seated,  where  he  had  ruthlessly  destroyed  the  flowers  they 
had  gathered,  and  as  he  referred  to  that  day  so  well-remem- 
bered by  them  both,  Mayon's  eyes  could  not  look  into  his; 
her  cheeks  were  like  the  rose  and  her  voice  trembled. 

"Mayon,"  said  her  companion,  "two  years  ago  3^ou  told 
nie  you  never  could  love  me  only  as  a  brother  and  friend. 
I  replied  that  I  should  hope  you  would  change.  I  did  hope 
for  a  year ;  then  when  Jessie  wrote  me  from  the  sea-shore 
that  you  had  given  the  love  to  another  that  I  had  craved, 
that  hope  died  within  me,  and  through  all  the  changes  of 
your  life  and  mine  it  never  revived  till  since  I  met  you  here. 
Jessie  told  me  of  the  grief  you  could  not  conceal  as  I  was 
brought  home  apparently  dead,  and  it  made  me  too  happy. 
It  gave  me  hope  that  after  all  the  desire  of  my  heart  might 
be  granted.  I  have  watched  you  since  then  and  fancied  I 
detected  something  stronger  than  a  sister's  love  for  me.  Was 
it  only  fancy?  Mayon,  I  do  not  wish  to  pain  you  as  I  did 
two  years  ago,  but  I  must  ask  you  again  to  be  mine.  IMayon, 
do  you  love  me  now  well  enough  to  become  my  wife  ?  " 

Returning  in  the  twilight,  as  Carlos  and  Mayon  neared 
the  house,  Jessie  came  to  meet  them.      Carlos  seized  her 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  807 

around  the  waist,  and,  kissing  her  impulsively,  said  :  "  Little 
sister,  it  is  all  right  now.     Mayon  is  mine !  " 

"  0,  Mayon  !  "  exclaimed  Jessie,  "  I  am  so  glad.  I  always 
thought  Carlos  deserved  this  reward.  Now  I  have  my  heart's 
desire,  for  you  are  to  be  really  and  truly  my  sister." 

One  year  before,  Mayon  had  thought  no  one  but  Will 
Saxon  could  ever  have  the  love  of  her  heart,  without  him 
her  life  would  be  a  blank,  and  when  the  blow  fell  that 
separated  thicm — in  a  sense — slie  looked  ui)on  her  future  as 
a  lonely  one  to  be  unshared  by  any  nearer  relation  than  those 
given  her  by  the  tics  of  nature;  but  a  year  had  taught  her 
to  regard  the  lover  as  her  brother, — the  brother  as  a  lover, 
and  Mayon  was  happier  than  she  had  thought  it  possible 
for  her  ever  to  be.  She  now  felt  that  it  would  be  a  delicate 
task  to  communicate  to  Will  what  had  occurred,  but  unre- 
servedly confided  everything  to  him  in  the  letter  she  sent 
him.     His  answer  contained  the  following  words : 

"I  am  heartily  glad,  dear  sister,  that  such  happiness  has 
come  into  your  life,  and  that  he  who  has  so  nobly  earned  the 
prize  he  has  patiently  waited  for  and  at  last  won,  and  who 
deserved  it  so  richly,  at  last  has  his  reward.  It  is  as  it  should 
be.  I  feel  humbled  when  I  think  of  my  failure  to  act  as  my 
conscience  directed,  and  the  consequence  which  was  a  sad 
entanglement  for  us.  He  is  worthy  of  the  first  place  in  your 
heart.  And  for  you,  Mayon,  could  I  have  known  one  year 
ago  that  another  would  soon  make  you  as  happy  as  I  had 
made  you,  notwithstanding  the  pangs  of  jealousy  I  might 
have  suffered,  I  would  have  rejoiced  as  I  now  rejoice.  May 
God  bless  my  sister  and  make  her  life  a  very  happy 
one." 

Later  Mayon  received  another  letter  from  Will,  from  which 
we  quote  the  following:  "I  have  strange  news  to  tell  you, 
Mayon — to  me  very  happy  news,  and  I  hope  it  will  be  the 
same  to  you  for  my  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of  one  who  has 


303  ELDER   NORTIIFIELD's   HOME;    OR, 

had  a  joyless  life.  Your  friend,  Edith,  came  here  a  few  days 
a^o,  not  knowing  of  my  presence,  and  we  met  in  your  uncle's 
parlor.  Notwithstanding  the  changes  years  have  effected  in 
both,  we  recognized  each  other,  for,  Mayon,  she  is  the  same 
Edith  I  knew  in  Salt  Lake  City,  and  whom  I  told  you  re- 
quested me  by  letter  never  to  see  her  again.  That  letter  she 
was  forced  to  write  Ijy  her  father,  and  through  all  these  years 
she  has  remembered  me  in  spite  of  her  efforts  to  forget  me. 
I  believed  she  did  not  love  me,  and  that  helped  me  to 
tram])le  out  all  my  affection  for  her;  but,  Mayon,  I  am  sure 
it  will  not  grieve  you  when  I  tell  you  that  at  sight  of  her 
face,  and  with  the  conviction  that  I  had  been  mistaken  in 
my  estimate  of  her,  my  old  love  for  her  returned,  and  this 
day  she  has  promised  to  become  my  wife.  Her  father  suc- 
ceeded in  bligliting  her  happiness  for  years,  but,  thank  God, 
not  forever,  for  my  whole  life  shall  be  devoted  to  her,  and,  if 
it  is  in  my  power  to  accomplish  it,  she  shall  make  up  for 
her  years  of  sorrow  by  years  of  double  happiness.  Poor 
Edith  !  but  she  is  mine  now  !  Why  did  I  never  suspect  the 
Edith  you  told  me  of  was  the  one  I  had  known  and  loved? 
I  never  thought  of  her  being  a  young  person :  and  think, 
Mayon,  of  the  strangeness  of  the  fact  that  I  am  to  marry  my 
father's  wife !  I  bless  him  that  he  was  always  so  kind  to 
her,  and  am  devoutly  thankful  that  though  the  greatest  of 
kindness  existed  between  them  yet  there  was  no  love.  Little 
did  I  think,  Mayon,  when  I  received  the  news  of  jovlt  en- 
gagement, that  I  should  have  a  similar  story  to  tell  so 
soon." 

Enclosed  was  a  missive  from  Edith,  of  which  we  give  a 
part. 

"  My  dear  Mayon  :  Will  has  written  the  news  to  you,  so  I 
will  only  add  a  few  words  for  myself.  I  can  scarcely  be- 
lieve that  it  is  all  true — that  I  am,  at  last,  after  my  sorrowful 
lifej  to  know  what  happiness  is — perfect  happiness.     You 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  309 

little  suspected  the  pain  that  your  letter  gave  me,  telling  of 
your  engagement  to  one  I  had  loved  since  my  girlhood  days, 
and  I  determined  then  that  you  or  no  one  should  ever  sus- 
pect it.  But,  Mayon,  believe  that  on  learning  of  the  dis- 
covery which  must  separate  you  from  him,  I  did  not  harbor 
any  but  feelings  of  sympathy  for  you,  and  were  it  not  that 
you  have  learned  to  give  another  the  love  you  once  had  for 
Will,  I  should  fear  to  pain  you  as  your  letter  once  pained 
me.  But  I  know  now,  dear  Mayon,  that  you  can  rejoice  in 
my  joy,  as  I  do  in  yours.  0,  how  God  has  seemed  to  guide 
everything  for  our  good,  since  the  day  we  set  out,  two 
frightened  fugitives,  from  our  bondage,  and  the  night  we 
spent  together  in  that  lonely  little  hut  by  the  roadside,  fear- 
ing our  enemies  would  discover  us  I     Surely, 

" '  God  works  in  a  mysterious  way  liis  wonders  to  perform.'  " 

As  Mrs.  Northfield,  away  in  her  home  in  Utah,  was  pre- 
paring to  go  out  riding,  she  heard  what  seemed  a  familiar 
step  at  her  door;  it  was  boldly  thrown  open,  and.  to  her 
surprise  and  delight,  her  son  entered,  and  with  all  the 
fondness  of  his  boyhood  days  he  clasped  his  mother  in  his 
arms. 

'•  Forest  I  my  son  I  my  son  I  "  she  exclaimed,  '"  can  this  be 
you  !  I  supposed  you  were  many  hundred  miles  from  here. 
Why  have  you  come  back  so  soon?  Have  you  been  re- 
called ? ''       ' 

"Yes,  mother.  I  have  been  recalled,  but  not  by  Mormon 
authority.  My  own  conscience  recalled  me,  and  how  I  have 
longed  to  arrive  and  see  you!  The  train  seemed  to  move  at 
a  snail's  pace,  I  was  so  impatient  to  get  here.  ^lother,  I  am 
a  Mormon  no  longer.  I  went  to  New  England  to  convert 
others.  I  come  home  converted  myself.  Behold  your  apos- 
tate son!" 

"0,   my   son,   thank   God! — at   last    he   has    heard    my 


'810  ELDER   NORTIIFTELd's   HOME  ;    OR, 

prayers.  It  seems  too  good  to  be  true.  As  I  begin  to  tread 
tbe  down-bill  side  of  life,  new  l)lessings  are  being  bestowed 
on  me.  There  is  yet  to  be  a  happy  ending  to  my  elieckered 
life.  Forest,  it  has  of  late  been  almost  my  only  grief  to  know 
that  my  son  was  so  strong  in  the  Mormon  faith;  that  he  in 
all  probability  would,  in  time,  cause  the  misery  his  fother 
has  unwillingly  caused;  and,  worst  of  all,  that  he  has  been 
using  all  his  influence,  all  the  talent  God  has  given  him,  to 
bring  those  of  Gentile  fiiith  into  the  church.  I  have  feared 
he  would  be  the  cause  of  some  other  lovely  girl  being  led  to 
suffer,  as  Flora  has  suffered.  How,  Forest,  was  this  change 
in  your  faith  brought  about?  " 

"Through  the  instrumentality  of  my  half-brother.  Dr. 
Saxon,  mother:  for  when  I  was  taken  sick,  he  was  the  means 
of  my  being  removed  to  the  home  of  one  of  the  best  families 
on  earth,  and  their  influence  and  his,  combined  with  what 
I  learned  there  of  Gentile  religion  and  Gentile  domestic  life, 
opened  my  eyes  at  last  to  tlie  truth ;  and  0,  how  I  regret 
now  that  I  have  not  been  brought  up  in  my  mother's  re- 
ligion, instead  of  my  father's!  I  almost  envy  Mayon,  for 
she  can  never  have  to  regret,  as  I  do,  years  of  ignorance  and 
superstition.  Her  life  has  so  far  been  so  well  spent,  and  she 
has  been  as  earnest  for  the  right  as  I  have  been  in  the  wrong. 
0,  why  did  my  father  ever  come  to  believe  this  religion ! 
It  seems  to  me,  if  I  had  known  the  Gentile  religion,  Mor- 
monism  could  never  have  deceived  me." 

"  But,  my  son,  when  he  and  I  embraced  it  we  knew 
nothing  about  the  doctrine  of  polygamy  and  other  horrible 
doctrines;  but,  when  once  firmly  established,  it  was  impos- 
sible for  your  father  to  give  it  all  up,  and  little  by  little  he 
embraced  the  whole." 

"What  a  strange  discovery  it  is  about  Will!  I  knew 
nothing  of  it  till  he  told  me,  or  of  his  engagement  to 
Mayon." 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  311 

""We  were  just  on  the  point  of  writing  to  you  of  the  en- 
gagement, when  we  learned  how  it  terminated,  and  then, 
waited  to  see  you;  hut  you  did  not  come  home,  as  we  ex- 
pected, and  therefore  you  have  been  left  to  find  it  out  in  this 
way.  But  tell  me  more  of  your  sickness,  and  of  May  on  and 
AVill,  and  of  the  peoj^le  who  cared  for  you." 

So  they  talked  a  long  time,  and  Forest  inquired  for  his 
father  and  for  Flora,  whose  husband  had  been  sick  some 
months. 

"Poor  Flora  is  in  deep  trouble.  I  was  just  going  to 
ride  out  and  see  her.  Burnside  is  growing  rapidly  worse, 
and  probably  cannot  live  long.  Flora  nurses  him  as  faith- 
fully as  though  he  had  been  a  kind  husband,  and  the  poor 
girl  is  nearly  w^orn  out  herself.  She  has  a  frightful  cough 
that  it  makes  me  shiver  to  hear.  I  have  tried  to  help  her  all 
I  could,  but  he  only  wants  Flora  near  him ;  and  though  I 
believe  he  is  more  humane  towards  her  than  when  wtII,  yet 
he  is  too  selfish  to  realize  that  she  can  ever  be  tired  or  need 
rest.  In  short,  she  is  wearing  her  life  out  for  the  man  who 
has  made  her  so  miserable." 

"The  wretch!"  exclaimed  Forest.  "How  could  a  man. 
treat  that  sweet  girl  in  the  way  he  has  done?  " 

"  It  is  not  the  man,  my  son,  who  is  first  to  be  blamed. 
It  is  Mormonism  that  has  made  him  what  he  is." 

"  Yes,  mother,  I  can  see  now  that  what  you  say  is  true." 

"  There  is  something  mysterious  in  the  way  Flora  is  pro- 
vided with  funds,  for  they  became  very  poor  and  were  really 
in  Avant.  I  did  not  know  it,  for  Flora  would  have  been  too 
proud  to  tell  me  or  your  father,  or  we  would  have  been  gl^^d 
to  relieve  them  ;  but  some  one  must  have  found  out  her  con- 
dition, for,  as  in  the  days  of  her  infant's  sickness  and  death, 
her  physician,  at  regular  intervals,  gives  her  a  sum  of  money, 
and,  try  as  hard  as  she  will.  Flora  can  learn  no  more." 

Mr.  Northfield  now  returned  to  his  home,  and  his  surprise 


312  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME)   OR, 

at  meeting  his  son  was  only  equalled  by  his  astonishment 
and  pleasure  at  learning  of  the  change  in  his  faith.  Mr. 
Northfield  was  hardly  considered  a  Mormon  now,  and 
though  making  no  active  opposition  to  the  church,  yet  its 
officers  hated  him  thoroughly.  He  dared  not  attack  their 
religion  while  living  among  them,  hut  his  business  kept  him 
there,  and  he  felt  that  he  had  nowhere  else  to  go,  although 
Walter  Bernard  had  extended  a  cordial  invitation  to  him  to 
come  to  his  home,  and  an  offer  of  assistance  in  business,  and 
Mayon  had  written  repeatedly,  asking  him  to  leave  the 
Mormons  and  come  to  New  York.  Mrs.  Northfield  did  not 
urge  him  away  from  what  had  been  their  almost  life-long 
home,  though  she  wished  for  the  time  to  come  when  they 
should  leave  it.  She  longed  once  more  to  live  in  the  Gentile 
world  and  to  meet  her  sister,  and  again  have  her  loved 
daughter  near  her.  But  she  felt  that  she  could  afford  to  be 
patient,  for  the  time  w^as  surely  coming,  and,  at  least,  her 
husband's  eyes  were  opened,  and  he  was  no  more  a  victim 
to  the  fanatical  delusions  of  Mormonism.  He  now  rejoiced 
that  the  effect  of  his  teachings  in  his  son  were  counteracted 
by  the  influences  that  had  lately  been  exerted  over  him  so 
effectually. 

*'My  son,"  said  he,  w^hen  he  had  heard  the  story  of 
Forest's  conversion,  "  I  thank  God  that,  though  I  shall  have 
to  repent  to  my  dying  day  the  instruction  I  was  only  too 
successful  in  giving  you,  yet  I  shall  not  have  to  know  that 
my  teachings  have  made  you  what  I  am — a  worse  than  use- 
less man  in  the  w^orld." 

"  Father,  you  are  not  that,  and  with  your  business  talent 
you  can  become  far  from  a  useless  man  in  the  East.  Why 
not  leave  this  city  and  go  to  New  York,  and,  with  Mayon 
and  Vv^ill,  we  can  be  so  happy  all  together?  I  was  so  im- 
pressed with  the  happiness  of  the  family  life  I  saw  and 
enjoyed  among  the  Gentiles,  that  I  long  for  the  same  happi- 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  313 

ncss  for  my  father's  family;  and  now  that  we  are  united 
at  last,  i  see  no  reason  why  we  may  not  be  as  happy  a  family 
as  there  is  on  this  earth." 

'•True,  my  son,"  said  his  father,  "and  I  wish  for  your 
mother's  sake  to  leave  this  place,  and  have  been  trying  to 
see  my  way  clear  to  do  so ;  but  it  is  impossible  to  dispose 
of  my  business  here  without  sacrificing  almost  everytliing. 
I  fear  I  shall  be  obliged  to  go  into  the  Gentile  world  a  poor 
man;  and  at  my  age,  and  after  laboring  as  I  have  to  accu- 
mulate something,  such  a  prospect  is  anything  but  cheering. 
But,  Marion,"  said  he,  turning  to  his  wife,  "  no  matter  what 
the  sacrifice  is,  I  am  determined  that  another  summer  shall 
find  me  forever  departed  from  this  city.  The  longing  of 
your  lifetime  shall  be  granted,  and  my  dear  wife  shall  yet 
enjoy  the  closing  years  of  her  life,  and  may  they  atone  in 
some  measure  for  the  many  years  of  sadness  that  my  super- 
stition and  fanaticism  have  caused  her." 

Mrs.  Northfield's  eyes  were  dimmed  with  tears,  and  her 
emotion  kept  her  speechless;  but  her  husband  knew  by  the 
look  of  gratitude  and  joy  in  her  face  that  she  was  made  happy 
by  his  declaration,  and  he  was  satisfied. 

On  his  dying  bed  lay  one  of  Mormonism's  champions. 
His  last  hour  had  come.  His  frail  and  awe-stricken  wife 
wiped  the  death  dew  from  his  brow.  Another  wife  sat  weep- 
ing in  a  corner ;  but  this  one — this  feeble,  tottering  young 
woman — though  she  shed  no  tears,  tried  to  soften  the  terrors 
of  death  for  one  who  had  tried  so  little  to  soften  the  terrors 
of  life  for  her.  The  dying  eyes  opened  and  fixed  on  the  frail 
form  by  his  side,  the  lips  parted  and  whispered  the  words : 

"  Flora,  you  have  been  kind  to  me,  but  I  have  not  been 
kind  to  you." 

That  was  all.  In  a  moment  more  he  was  beyond  the 
reach  of  all  human  pity  or  care.     Forest  and  his  mother 


314  ELDER   NORTIIFIELD's   HOME;   OR, 

had  been  with  Flora  constantly  of  late,  and  Forest  had  insisted 
that  Flora  leave  her  husband  in  his  care  and  obtain  some  * 
rest,  which  she  persistently  refused  to  do.  Now  she  her- 
self required  the  tenderest  care.  The  necessity  for  exertion 
being  over,  her  strength  failed  her,  and  one  wife  followed 
the  husband  to  his  grave,  while  the  other  lay  prostrated. 
Mrs.  Northfield  remained  with  Flora,  and  after  the  lapse  of 
many  days  she  was  able  to  be  removed  to  the  home  of  the 
former.  This  was  her  first  home  in  Mormondom,  and  again 
its  shelter,  its  kindness  and  its  loving  care  were  hers.  Mr. 
Northfield  was  arranging  to  close  out  his  business  and  re- 
move to  New  York  with  his  family,  and  Flora  now  yielded 
to  the  entreaties  of  her  parents  and  was  to  accompany  them. 
But  her  wasted  form  and  sunken  eyes,  her  flushed  cheek 
and  her  lagging  footsteps,  plainly  told  that  her  friends  could 
not  keep  her  long,  and  the  journey  was  again  and  again 
deferred  that  she  might  gain  strength  to  endure  it.  Finally 
her  physician  pronounced  her  able  to  travel,  and  then 
Forest  told  his  parents  that  Flora  was  to  go  to  New  York 
as  his  wife. 

"  If  her  life  is  nearly  spent,"  said  he,  "  I  shall  have  a  hus- 
band's right  to  try  to  make  her  last  days  happy  ones.  If 
not,  as  I  must  hope,  then  by  a  lifetime  of  devotion  to  her  I 
will  strive  to  make  her  forget  the  wretched  years  of  her  life 
in  Mormonism." 

Flora  had  once  refused  the  offer  of  Forest's  hand,  but  in 
the  following  years,  when  she  drank  deep  of  sorrow's  bitter 
cup,  that  hand,  though  unseen,  unknown,  was  extending  aid 
to  her  and  relieving  the  only  one  of  her  troubles  that  it  had 
power  to  relieve.  The  heart  which  she  unconsciously  won, 
only  to  thrust  aside,  retained  its  tenderness,  and  prompted  its 
possessor  to  noble  deeds  for  which  he  could  never  hope  to 
be  rewarded,  and  at  last  Flora  discovered  who  had  been  her 
secret  benefactor. 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  315 

At  the  home  of  the  Bernards  all  was  life,  joy  and  bustle, 
for  the  house  contained  not  only  the  Bernard  family,  with 
aunt  Wells,  Mayon  and  Edith,  but  Mr.  Winchester  with  his 
wife,  sons  and  daughter  Jessie,  and  Dr.  Saxon,  as  he  was 
still  called.  But  the  capacity  of  the  Bernard  hospitality  was 
not  exhausted,  for  more  guests  were  eagerly  looked  for,  and 
Avhen  at  last  two  carriages  arrived  and  from  one  stepped  Mr. 
Northfield  and  his  wife,  quickly  followed  by  Forest,  who 
tenderly  lifted  Flora  from  the  carriage  and  carried  her  into 
the  house,  placing  her  in  her  father's  arms — when  from  the 
other  alighted.  Edith's  brother,  Francis,  with  his  wife  and 
two  little  ones,  whom  he  seemed  to  forget  for  the  time  in  his 
happiness  at  meeting  his  sister — then  followed  a  scene 
which  words  would  be  inadequate  to  portray.  Mayon  was 
embraced  by  her  father  and  mother,  and  the  sisters,  who 
had  parted  in  such  grief  in  that  same  city  wdien  they  were 
young  and  fair,  now  met  after  a  quarter  of  a  century  had 
passed,  and  each  felt  that  years,  cares  and  nearer  relations 
had  not  lessened  in  any  degree  the  affection  they  then  had 
for  each  other.  Mr.  Northfield  could  not  speak  for  his  emo- 
tion, as  the  son  he  had  never  seen  approached  him  with 
outstretched  hand  and  the  one  word,  "  Father!  " 

It  was  a  thrilling  moment  when  that  father  and  son  be- 
held each  other  for  the  first  time.  Mr.  Northfield  was  then 
w^armly  greeted  by  Mrs.  Bernard,  the  Elsie  whose  clear  eyes 
and  sound  arguments,  in  years  long  past  he  had  sought  to 
avoid.  While  his  father  was  speaking  with  her.  Will  stepped 
back  and  gently  drew  Edith  with  him  to  his  father.  Then 
the  first  shade  of  embarrassment  was  felt  as  Will  said :  "Here 
is  my  bride  that  is  to  be." 

And  Mr.  Northfield  greeted  his  former  wife,  soon  to  be- 
come his  son's  wife,  saying:  "God  bless  you  both,  my 
children." 

There  was  a  mother  weeping  for  joy  that  her  long-lost 


816  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;    OR, 

daughter  was  returned  to  her,  though  such  a  wreck  of  her 
former  self;  father,  brothers  and  sister,  unconscious  of  the 
presence  of  the  others,  in  their  joy  that  their  treasure  was 
restored  to  them,  and  it  seemed  Forest's  right  to  her  posses- 
sion was  almost  disputed,  but  he  was  watching  her  with 
jealous  eye,  fearing  the  effects  of  the  excitement. 

There  were  "  God  bless  you's  "  from  the  father  of  Flora 
to  the  Northfields  for  their  care  of  her,  and  from  Mr.  North- 
field  to  aunt  Wells  and  the  Bernards,  who  had  done  so  much 
for  his  daughter,  and  from  Edith's  brother  to  Will,  who  had 
made  his  sister  at  last  so  happy.  There  was  a  warm  greet- 
ing between  Mrs.  Northfield  and  Edith,  between  Carlos  and 
Mayon's  parents.  Will  and  his  stepmother,  and  between 
those  who  had  been  heretofore  strangers  to  each  other. 
Jessie,  Lillian  and  Mayon  were  like  birds  darting  here  and 
there  in  the  general  commotion.  Leonard  and  Harry  could 
scarcely  refrain  from  giving  three  cheers,  and  little  Dot  and 
Daisy,  without  comprehending  the  cause  of  so  much  emo- 
tion, glided  about  here  and  there,  putting  up  their  rosy  lips 
to  be  kissed  promiscuously.  When  the  greetings  were  over 
and  some  degree  of  calmness  had  been  restored,  Walter 
Bernard  said : 

"  Friends,  should  we  not  thank  God  for  this  happy  meet- 
ing, which  is  so  like  a  heaven  upon  earth !  " 

All  assented,  and  as  he  rendered  praise  to  an  all-wise 
Father  for  tlie  guiding  of  His  hand,  and  the  bringing  about 
of  such  happy  results  by  mysterious  and  unlooked-for  cir- 
cumstances, all  hearts  went  up  to  God  in  thanksgiving. 

A  few  days  later  aunt  Wells,  with  her  aged  dignity  and 
snow-white  hair,  occupies  the  warmest  corner  of  that  parlor 
and  one  of  the  easiest  chairs,  and  her  kind  glance  wanders 
about  from  face  to  face,  and  finally  rests  alternately  upon 
her  nieces,  Marion  and  Elsie ;  the  latter  yet  blooming  and 
fresh  though  past  life's  meridian;  the  former,  though  her 


SACRIFICED   ON   THE   MORMON    ALTAR.  317 

face  is  lined  with  sorrow,  and  her  head  is  plentifully  decked 
with  silver  threads  among  the  gold  b)^  her  years  of  sadness, 
yet  her  eyes  beam  with  no  less  happy  light  than  those  of 
her  sister,  as  they  are  now  united  after  so  many  years  of 
separation. 

In  another  easy-chair,  which  is  surrounded  by  Mr.  Win- 
chester, his  wife,  and  Leonard,  sits,  or  rather  reclines,  Flora 
— Flora  Northfield  now,  and  behind  her  stands  the  tall 
form  of  her  young  husband,  watching  her  with  all  the  fond- 
ness and  solicitude  of  his  affection.  Mr.  Northfield  watches 
this  group  with  a  half-sad,  half-gratified  look,  while  Mr. 
Bernard,  with  Daisy  in  his  arms  and  Harry  and  Dot  at  his 
side,  is  the  picture  of  satisfaction  as  he  surve3'S  the  little 
gathering  under  his  roof. 

A  rustling  is  heard,  and  now  all  who  have  been  missing 
from  this  group  enter.  The  man  of  God  rises,  a  solemn 
hush  pervades  the  room,  while  he  reads  the  marriage  ser- 
vice and  Mr.  Northfield  bestows  his  daughter  Mayon  upon 
Carlos  Winchester,  and  Francis  Parker  gives  his  sister  Edith 
to  Dr.  Will  Saxon,  while  Lillian  and  Jessie  officiate  as 
bridesmaids. 

AVould  that  a  veil  might  be  drawn  here ;  but  this  other- 
wise happy  ending  must  be  marred  by  one  more  scene,  for 
sunny  skies  and  paths  strewn  with  flowers  are  not  for  all. 
In  some  troubled  lives  peace  and  happiness  only  come  by 
crossing  the  dark  river  and  passing  through  the  pearly 
portals  of  heavenly  gates ;  or  when  life  is  almost  over  to 
gild  at  last,  by  a  ray  of  light,  a  sad  past. 

In  a  darkened  room,  on  a  snowy  couch,  lay  a  feeble, 
wasted  form,  scarcely  less  white  than  the  couch  on  which 
Bhe  rested.  Around  her  were  gathered  father,  mother, 
brothers  and  sister.     By  her  side,  with  her  emaciated  hand 


818  ELDER   NORTHFIELD's   HOME;    OR, 

clasped  in  his,  sat  the  strong  young  man,  who  only  a  few 
short  months  before  clasped  that  hand  in  the  marriage- 
service,  his  manly  breast  now  heaving  with  sobs.  He  was 
not  ashamed  of  his  weakness,  though  for  his  loved  one's  sake 
he  strove  to  repress  his  emotion. 

''  Forest,"  said  the  dying  wife,  as  her  eyes,  full  of  love  and 
peace,  rested  on  him,  "  do  not  grieve  so.  Only  a  little  while 
and  we  shall  meet  again." 

"  My  darling,  I  cannot  have  it  so !  I  hoped  the  change 
of  climate  might  restore  you,  with  all  the  care  I  would  give 
you,  and  with  the  happiness  of  being  again  at  your  home. 
I  did  not  believe  you  would  surely  leave  me  so  soon.  My 
poor,  poor  wife  !  " 

"  0,  no  :  not  poor  wife.  Poor  Forest !  you  should  rather 
say.  As  for  me,  I  am  only  too  content — too  happy  in  being 
allowed  to  die  at  home.  It  would  be  too  much  to  ask  that 
I  should  be  permitted  to  live.  Never  was  a  person  made 
happier  than  you  have  made  me  for  the  past  few  months — 
you  and  father  and  mother  and  the  rest.  Heaven  cannot 
be  sweeter,  more  lovely,  more  beautiful  than  home  has  been 
and  is  to  me.  Angels  cannot  be  more  lovable  than  you 
have  all  been,  nor  heavenly  music  more  enchanting  than 
the  songs  you  have  sung  to  me.  I  am  going  to  find  my 
little  Jessie.  O,  it  is  not  hard  to  die — it  is  harder  to  live. 
You,  Forest,  and  you,  father  and  mother,  and  the  rest  of 
you,  are  to  be  pitied — not  I — for  I  know  you  will  miss  your 
Flora  more  than  she  deserves  to  be  missed.  But  try  not 
to  mourn  for  me.  Do  not  be  sad,  but  rejoice  that  I  am  so 
happy  at  last." 

The  friends  all  knew  that  Flora  could  scarcely  breathe 
the  day  out,  and  their  hearts  were  torn  with  anguish,  as  they 
realized  that  they  were  so  soon  again  to  be  robbed  of  their 
treasure,  and  this  time  she  would  never  come  back  to  them. 
She  breathed  fainter  after  the  exertion  of  speaking,  but  after 


SACRIFICED   ON    THE   MORMON   ALTAR.  319 

a  time  she  spoke  again,  this  time  to  Mayon  and  Carlos, 
beckoning  them  to  her  side.  As  they  bent  over  her  she 
wound  one  arm  about  the  neck  of  each,  and  said :  "  JMayon, 
I  am  so  glad  you  took  my  place  here  long  ago — try  to  fdl 
it  more  than  ever  when  I  am  gone  :  won't  you  ?  "  She  then 
called  Jessie  to  her;  then  Leonard,  giving  them  each  a  fare- 
well caress  and  parting  word,  striving  to  check  their  tears. 
Tlien  she  bid  her  father  good-bye  with  the  greatest  of  tender- 
ness, for  his  heart  was  nearly  broken  with  sorrow  and  re- 
morse. Her  mother  clasped  her  child  to  her  breast,  but  did 
not  shed  one  tear  or  make  one  moan. 

As  the  sun  was  slowly  sinking.  Flora  asked  Forest  to 
hold  her  where  she  could  once  more  see  its  brightness,  and 
look  at  the  hills  and  fields  where  she  used  to  wander  in 
childhood  with  her  brothers  and  sister.  Forest  held  her  in 
his  strong  arms,  and  at  last  she  said:  "We  shall  all  meet 
again  there.  Forest,  dear  Forest,  good-bye !  "  and  as  the 
sun  went  down  in  all  its  brightness,  so  did  this  life  go  out 
in  all  the  bright  loveliness  of  youth, — one  sacrifice  on  the 
Mormon  altar. 


THE  END. 


